The 25 Days of Christmas With the United Kingdom!
by RandomWriter57
Summary: Follow the personifications of the UK (and the Irish republic) through their adventures of the 2012 holiday season? There's a lot more in store than what they bargained for... Series of Christmas One-Shots, one posted for each day until Christmas. Rated T for minor profanities. Happy Holidays :D Completed !
1. Day One

**Saturday, December 1st 2012**

An electric 'beeping' tone filled the air of the small room, and was immediately extinguished by the hand turning it off. Stretching, the red-head reluctantly pushed back the cosy duvet covers and sat upright, his bare chest exposed to the chilly atmosphere. He stood silently and began to clothe himself, after giving his body a quick wash in the bathroom in the next room over. Then, quiet as a mouse, he picked up an object which would be needed in the operation he was about to undertake. The Scotsman, Iain, checked his calendar, upon which he had been marking off the days all year; yes, it was time.

Without a single noise, his door glided shut with a small click as Iain exited his bedroom. He snuck along the halls with the stealth of a cat, before reaching a door which appeared to lead to a closet. However, after turning on a light one can clearly see that it leads, not to a closet, but to a set of stairs leading upwards. This is what the Scotsman used to reach his destination: the roof.  
Unlike many other houses in the area, the house Iain lived in had a small trapdoor in the roof, so the occupants could get onto the roof easily. Their roof was the same as the others – pointed so the rain could trickle into the gutter – apart from this small addition. The house's occupants had to make sure that no water from the roof could leak in through the trapdoor, but were able to ensure this eventually.  
Scotland's personification climber the stairs to the roof and stood on a flatter part of the roof, gazing out at the sunrise. Frost coated the gardens below, not a cloud could be seen in the sky (which was a rare occasion), birds chirped as they flew further south, and a slight chilly breeze rustled Iain's red hair and gave his cheeks a flush from the cold.  
He nodded once to himself before removing the necessary object from its case and readying it. He put the chanter of the bagpipes to his mouth and began to play.  
The song began with a drone, as all bagpipe songs do, which soon developed into a series of notes forming a melody which rose into the crisp December air. The tune of "The Twelve Days of Christmas" floated around him, loud and clear. Despite what many people say about bagpipes, such as stating that they sound like dying cats, what the neighbours heard this morning sounded quite nice, bordering on their annoyance with being woken up at six in the morning.  
Suddenly, as the Scotsman played, a blonde head poked up from the trapdoor, its face scowling at the player.  
"Oi! Shut up! Some of us are trying to sleep, twat!" the Englishman yelled at the Scotsman. Iain ended his song with one final note before removing the pipes from his mouth and turning towards his brother.  
"Oh, good morning Artie. Nice to see you up so early!" he greeted cheerfully.  
Arthur was not amused. "Stop playing bagpipes so bloody early in the morning. I was at least hoping I would get half an hour longer in bed but of course not."  
Iain laughed. "Lighten up! Why don't you just go downstairs and read or something while I make you a nice warm cuppa tea, aye?"  
Scowling, the younger man complied, tempted by the prospect of a cup of tea. "Fine."  
As Arthur returned inside, Iain took one last glance over the sunrise before packing away his instrument and going back downstairs for a cup of tea.

**End Day One**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES: **Hola! It'sa me, Random!  
So, welcome to The 25 Days of Christmas with the UK!  
I decided to do this 'cause…I wanted to do something Christmassy! =w=  
I'm going to put out one chapter for each day of December, so that's why they're going to be quite short (between 500-1000 words). If I put out shorter chapters quickly, then not only will I be able to write more quickly, but it won't take me an age to upload them :3  
I can't write accents, so you'll just have to imagine them :L I can't even write a Scottish accent, which is bad :L (I'm Scottish so that is very bad :L)  
Enjoy the Christmas fun! :D

**Disclaimer: **Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, as do its characters such as Arthur/England and Iain/Scotland – technically Scottie's an OC but the concept still isn't mine. If I owned these…yeah…

~RandomWriter57 ( = ¬ = )7 *salutes you*


	2. Day Two

**Sunday, December 2nd 2012**

It was another average day for the United Kingdom's personifications as they relaxed by the television, watching some re-runs of old Doctor Who and Top Gear episodes, or playing on handheld devices such as DS's or mobile phones. Yes, the atmosphere was very calm that afternoon for the Brits.  
That is, it _was_ until they heard the news.  
Four messy-haired heads shot up as another entered the room in a frantic state. The red-headed, emerald eyed man inhaled a few deep breaths before blurting out in a rushed tone, "We'vegottagototheairportnowmysi ster'sgoingtolandanyminuteand-!"  
"Shut up and talk slowly, we can't understand you!" Scotland interrupted.  
"Eire's coming; we've got to get to the airport, ASAP!" Northern Ireland repeated.  
Three of the four others exchanged expressions of shock and horror.  
"Sh!t! Bloody buggering faffing hell…" England cursed, shooting up from his position on the sofa and out of the room.  
"You said that right, now where's my coat…" Scotland muttered, also exiting the room.  
Wales had stood up from his seat and was now attempting to calm a now hyperventilating Irishman. "Calm down, North, we'll be ready to get her in a couple of minutes, don't worry…"  
Sealand, who had previously been losing at a Pokémon battle, was staring at the pair in confusion. "What's all the bother about? It's just Eire, right?"  
The look North gave him was one that usually was spared for a three-headed alien. "Peter, this is _Eire_ we're talking about. If we're not there when her plane lands, she will pitch a fit the size of Pluto."  
"But why?"  
"Last time we didn't get there in time, she had knocked three of the staff members and patrol officers unconscious before being locked in airport security until we arrived." North remarked, deadly serious. Sealand gulped.  
It was then that England rushed back into the room, breathless. "Is everyone ready? We have to go, now."  
"I'm ready." A Scottish accent yells through the halls. "I'm just gonna go get in the car!"  
"North and I shall join him." Wales comments, leaving the room with North.  
"Are you coming Peter?" England asks the youngest.  
Sealand looks thoughtful for a moment before nodding. "I might as well come, right?"

Five minutes later, five nations were packed into Scotland's six-seat Land Rover, on their way to Heathrow Airport.  
"Say, North, how come we didn't get told earlier that she was coming today?" Scotland asked his younger brother.  
"Good question." North answered. "Eire just sent me a text literally two minutes before I told you guys, so even I didn't know."  
The remainder of the car trip was quiet, with only the soft Christmas music playing in the background of the scenario.  
It took only around ten minutes for them to reach the airport, so they were soon waiting anxiously in the terminals, searching the crowd for their red-head sister.  
Wales asked North when the plane would land.  
"Ah, she didn't say. She just said, 'Plane's landing soon, you coming for us?' Bit vague, but still."  
"Oi! Over here!"  
The British nations turned to see the person they were looking for; Eire was average height, with long red hair caught in a high ponytail and emerald eyes which mirrored those of every other British Nation (excluding Sealand, of course). She wore a deep green jacket and blue jeans, over which brown Ugg boots were layered. Her scarf was a Christmassy red, with matching gloves. She wore a black handbag over her shoulder and had a regular black suitcase beside her. She grinned and made her way towards her brothers.  
"Dia dhuit! Long-time no see!" Her Irish accent wrapped itself around the words.  
"Dia dhuit Em!" North replied, smiling happily at his twin sister.  
"Hullo Em, nice to see you." Scotland greeted.  
"Hi there!" Sealand grinned up at the girl.  
"Welcome back Emily!" Wales greeted cheerfully.  
"Hello, Ireland." England greeted, rather curtly.  
"Hello guys, nice to see you all!" Eire laughed. "Thanks for coming for me. I didn't want to have to spend my money on a taxi." She grimaced, causing Scotland and North to laugh.  
"Well, shall we get back to the car? No point in just standing here like lunatics, is there?" Scotland suggested, to everyone's approval.

Back at home, Sealand was able to ask North about Eire. "How come you were worried about us being late to meet her? She's not scary at all!"  
North laughed. "Believe me, Peter, she can be scary when she wants to be."  
The rest of the day was peaceful.

**End Day Two**

**AUTHOR NOTES: **So in this chapter we get to meet the Republic of Ireland!  
I dunno, I wanted to include her in this fic :3  
Sorry for the crappy crap :L This was written at like, half eleven at night :L  
Sorry if I got the Irish wrong :L The Internet is hardly reliable at times :/  
By the way, the British Nations call each other by their human names (eg. Peter/Emily) because they're siblings. England calls Eire by her Nation name because they aren't exactly on the best terms…  
Yep, okay.  
Thank you for the faves, follows and reviews on the last chapter! Love you all~  
That's it for this chappie!  
See ya next time!

**Disclaimer:** Hetalia is not mine, it belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. The characters, mainly England and Sealand, are not mine either. Nor is Christmas. Not mine either.

~Random ( ^ 3 ^ )~


	3. Day Three

**Monday, December 3rd 2012**

The old grandfather clock rang out from the corner, signalling the change of the hour from nine to ten in the evening. The red-haired Scotsman lounging on the sofa took no notice of this sound, much preferring to flick quietly through the channels on the television. On the television, there seemed to be no good television shows at the present time. The Scot, who just-so-happened to be the personification of Scotland, settled for a re-run of an old episode of _Top Gear_.  
The show was currently on a break, so Scotland would just have to settle for watching the adverts until the show started.

Rain pounded on the windows, and the occasional straggler would wander past the house, umbrellas being blown inside out by the force of the wind, scarves whipping them in the face. It was the beginning of December, so the weather was as chilly as the Baltics, and as wet as every other month of the year – as if someone had dumped the entire Atlantic Ocean over the landmass of Scotland. Scotland chuckled to himself, thankful that he was not one of the wanderers; he was quite comfortable inside his cosy house, heating turned up to full and buried under his duvet on the sofa. He laid his head on the armrest, reaching down to the floor where his half-empty can of Irn Bru sat contentedly. As he took a sip, an all too familiar advert showed up on the wide-screen.  
Sitting upright, still grasping his beverage, Scotland's eyes widened and glistened with glee as the now famous advert showed up.

The boy placed the hat on his snowman, finally completing his work. As he cracked opened a can of Irn Bru, the snowman suddenly sprung to life and, grabbing his hand, flew up into the air.  
_We're walking in the air  
I'm sipping on an Irn Bru  
_As they soared over the snow-blanketed fields, the boy took another sip of the drink in his hand. The snowman gestured to the boy, asking to have a sip. The boy shakes his head and hides the can behind his back.  
_My chilly snowman mate  
says he would like some too  
_Flying over a castle that vaguely resembles Hogwarts, the snowman asks once more for a sip. The boy shakes his head once more and denies the requests once more.  
_I tell him 'get your own'  
He looks like he is going to cry  
I tell him once again, 'the Irn Bru is mine'  
_He moves the can towards the snowman, as if offering him a sip, but cruelly jerks it away once the cold hand begins to extend towards the can.  
The snowman frowns, looking angry at the boy, who looks firm on his decision. The boy's eyes widen as he is suddenly dropped, the Irn Bru taken from his hands.  
_I'm falling through the air  
I wonder where I'm going to land  
_As the boy free-falls towards the ground, the snowman tries to sip the drink, but finds his attempt hindered by his long carrot nose. Pulling it off, his lets it fall with the boy as he finally takes a deep gulp of his drink and continues to soar into the night.  
_He nicked my Irn Bru  
And let go of my hand  
_The scene switches to the city below, briefly passing a sign which reads, 'Have a phenomenal Christmas!' as the shape of a human suddenly appears in the snow after the boy finishes falling.

As the advert finishes with a close-up of the previous sign, Scotland grins in excitement. Hurriedly searching for his phone, he dials a well memorised number and presses the device to his ear.  
It is finally picked up.  
_"Hello? What do you want?"_ a sharp English accent rings in the Scot's ears.  
"Arthur, get the decorations out." The camera makes a dramatic zoom into the Scotsman's face as he states, "it's Christmas."

**End Day Three**

**AUTHOR NOTES:** _It's fizzy, it's ginger, it's phenomenal!  
_I couldn't think of what to write, until my sister says to me, "write something to do with Scotland and Irn Bru!"  
This is what I came up with!  
Here in Scotland, it isn't officially Christmas until this advert is aired on the television. Honestly. It's a tradition. Well, not really but still…  
I could just imagine Scotland doing this!  
I had a lot of fun writing this fic!  
_But what's Irn Bru?  
_Google it, I can't be bothered to explain -_-

**Advert: **(Put this after the YouTube URL) - /watch?v=9wMs5bUkjO0  
**Disclaimer:** Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, Irn Bru and this advert belong to Barr, Scotland may be an OC, but freedom belongs to him so that isn't mine either. This computer isn't mine either. The only thing that is mine is the combination of words typed onto this previously blank word document.

Thanks for reading!  
~Random ( O u O )/


	4. Day Four

**Tuesday, December 4th 2012**

_Knock knock  
_"I'll get it!"  
The short blonde boy leapt from his seat on the black sofa in the living room and dashed towards the mahogany door at the front of the house, yanking open the golden handle to reveal a short man with light blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes, accompanied by a towering man with darker shades hair and eyes. The first man had a cheerful smile spread across his face, while the latter held a stoic expression.  
"Mama Tino, Papa Berwald!" the boy cried with glee.  
"Hello Peter!" Finland greeted, bending down to hug the boy.  
"H'llo P'ter." Sweden said, also hugging Sealand after the Brit had been released by Finland.  
"Hi!" Sealand grinned at his part-time caretakers. "So, are we going now?"  
Finland laughed. "Alright, alright, you go get in the car. We're just going to have a quick word with England."  
"Okay!" and with that, Sealand sped off.  
England's form then entered the doorway. "Ah, hello Finland, Sweden. It's nice to see you."  
"You too." Finland smiled. "Sealand's in the car, if you were wondering."  
"Ah, yes. Er, thank you again for taking him. I'd take him myself, but, with the amount of work I have piled up…"  
"No, don't worry about it!" Finland waved the Brit off. "It's our pleasure, we love spending time with Sealand. Plus you seem like you need a bit of time off for a while."  
England gave a half-smile. "Yes, thank you. Well, see you later?"  
"Yes, bye!"  
"Goodbye."  
The door clicked shut and the Scandinavian Nations made their way to the car, inside which Sealand awaited.

After a half-hour drive with little more activity than Sealand's relentless babbling, the three Nations arrived at their destination – the fir tree farm.  
Sealand was buzzing as he skipped through the snow, ecstatic to be able to pick a Christmas tree again. Finland and Sweden stopped at the registration desk for a few minutes before catching up with the younger boy, happy to see that he was having such a good time. The three wove in and out of the trees, glancing at the snow-covered branches and investigating the heights as they searched for the perfect pick. Their footprints in the snow tracked their movements, mingling with the prints of other humans and animals that had set foot through the forest. Birds sang to each other from above, and squirrels darted from tree to tree, ensuring that they were not trapped in a tree destined for the chop.  
Sealand noticed this and was curious. "Mama Tino, why are there still animals in the trees? What if they get stuck?"  
Tino answered carefully, "Well, they wanted to keep the natural feel of the forest. At first they wanted to get rid of the animals, but they mated so quickly that they were soon overrun. They had to keep them in the end."  
"But what if they get trapped in a tree and it gets cut down?"  
"We just have to hope that doesn't happen, right Berwald?"  
Sweden gave a grunt of approval, and the subject was dropped.

It took about fifteen minutes for the three to find the perfect tree; it was around six feet tall, and the branches were a little less spikey than some of the other trees. After getting everyone's opinion, Sweden picked up his axe and, making sure his companions were stood far enough back, chopped down the fir tree. Luckily, no wildlife had been caught in the branches.  
The tree was then tied up and dragged back to the car by Sweden, despite Finland's constant offers of help. After securing it to the car's roof, the three waved goodbye to the registration clerk and drove back to the British mansion.

A few hours later, the British Nations, plus Finland and Sweden, were seated in the living room with hot cups of tea, coffee or hot chocolate, admiring the tree which now stood in a pot by the front window, looking ever so slightly bare. England had to admit; that was a pretty good tree they had picked out. He had, at first, objected to the idea of having a real tree, tired of having to Hoover up so many fir leaves, but after seeing Sealand's joyful face at the sight of the tree, he could hardly argue against it.  
"We're going to have to get it decorated soon," Wales commented, "it seems a bit plain at the moment."  
"We can do it tomorrow." Scotland replied.  
Sealand moaned. "Why not tonight?"  
Finland smiled at the boy. "Your siblings are tired, Peter, plus you'll have more time tomorrow."  
Sweden gave a glance to his wrist before nudging Finland with his elbow. "W' have t' go."  
"Ah, yes, it is getting quite late! We'd better head back to the hotel." Finland agreed.  
"What?! Can't you stay?" Sealand asked, a sad look on his face.  
Finland smiled sympathetically at Sealand. "Sorry Peter, we have to go. But we'll see you again soon, okay?"  
The Nordic Nations hugged the sea fort, waved goodbye to the other British Nations then left the house, departing for their hotel.

That night, Sealand dreamt of Christmas trees and his part-time caretakers, smiling throughout the fantasies.

**End Day Four**

**AUTHOR NOTES:** Ah, Christmas trees. Reminds me of a little song I know…  
I don't know, it seemed like a good theme for this day :3  
We got to see Papa Sweden and Mama Finland! Hope they weren't too OOC ^-^"  
Kbye.

**Disclaimer:** Hetalia = Hidekaz Himaruya – not mine.  
Characters = Not mine either  
Christmas = Not mine.  
~Random ~( *o* )~


	5. Day Five

**Wednesday, December 5th 2012**

It was around eleven o'clock in the morning when Peter finally got out of his warm bed. Tiredly, he stumbled through to the kitchen, where his brother Iain was situated, leaning against the counter with a cup of steaming hot tea in his hand.  
"Good morning Iain." Peter greeted, causing the red-head to glance up from his phone.  
"Oh, morning Peter." Iain replied. "You're up earlier than usual."  
"Yeah, I-"  
At that exact moment, a loud crash came from above the conversing Nations, causing them to look up in confusion.  
"What the…?"  
Another crash resounded after the first, then another, with another following those. Along with these came the muffled sound of cursing coming from a familiar voice.  
"…what on earth is Arthur doing up there…?" Scotland muttered, abandoning his half-empty mug in preference of exploring the upper floors of the house, accompanied by a curious Sealand. First floor, second floor, top floor; England was nowhere to be found. After a while of searching, they finally spotted a set of rickety old metal ladders leading up into the ceiling above. "He's obviously in the attic."  
Sealand shot his older brother a befuddled expression. "Why?"  
"We'll see in just a second."  
Scotland walked calmly towards the ladders and began to ascend into the gap in the roof. "Oi, Arthur, what the hell are you doing up here?"  
"Ugh, bloody boxes, getting in my way…" the muttered reply came from the Englishman.  
The Scotsman sighed and climbed fully up into the attic. "God, Artie, you've got yourself in a right state here!"  
"Well give me a hand then! I can't get out from under these bloody boxes by myself!"  
"Shut up and stop complaining, will you?!"  
After a few minutes of muffled grunts and curses, Peter's curiosity got the better of him. He stood at the base of the ladder and called up into the attic, "What on earth are you doing up there?"  
His question, however, was not answered, for the next thing that Peter knew, a large cardboard box full to the brim with bags of Christmas decorations was being lowered into his arms.  
"Put this down and wait for the next box, will you?" England, who had apparently been freed from the cardboard box trap, called to the younger boy. Peter nodded and set the box aside, awaiting the next just as ordered. Box after box was given to the boy, and eventually they were delivered to the living room by Wales, who had arrived at the scene not too long after the three other Nations took up the unpacking job. Eventually, all of the boxes sat dotted around the floor in the living room, ready for their contents to be used once more.

The six personifications of various nations within the British Isles congregated that day to perform one very important job – putting up Christmas decorations.  
Scotland and Wales were sent to drape lights around the roof and trees in the garden, the Irish Nations were employed the duty of putting up decorations around the rooms around the house, and England and Sealand were left to dress up the Christmas tree which they had obtained the day before. There was a wide plethora of various coloured and patterned baubles to hang upon the branches, a variety of multi-coloured tinsel to add after applying fairy lights to the tree in order to make it more bright and colourful. Peter took the front of the tree, while Arthur adorned the back end. As one can expect, one side ended up a lot more crowded with baubles than the other, and after so long of applying these embellishments, the elder of the pair realised that the fairy lights had to be put on the tree _before_ the other decorations. A further half hour was wasted as they pulled off all of the baubles before unravelling the seemingly endless cord of fairy lights. It was a dubious task, the Christmas lights. It took almost an hour for them to get the fairy lights on properly, and a further half hour to re-apply the baubles, this time slightly more balanced out. The Irish Nations were already putting decorations on the living room walls when the English personifications began using the tinsel, and therefore teased them relentlessly for taking so long – or rather, they teased England for being an old man.  
It took a while for the Brit to calm down enough to complete the decoration of the tree, but it was worth it when they did. Scotland and Wales had turned on the outside lights, and the sparkling lights of the inside decorations and the tree shone through the dark evening outdoors. Arthur hoisted Peter onto his shoulders in order for him to add the final decoration – the star that stood proudly on the apex, finishing the tree off to a T.

The British Nations were rather proud of their work that day, rewarding themselves with steaming cups of tea and a bit of Doctor Who to round up the evening.

**End Day Five**

**AUTHOR NOTES:** I dunno about this chapter guys, I don't really like it :L  
Oh well, tomorrow's will be better :D  
(Hopefully "OTL)  
Thank you all again for the response to the previous chapters and the story in general! I hope this chapter didn't disappoint anyone too much "OTL  
To the Guest review: thank you for correcting me! Also, thanks for the other translation and the compliment too :3

**Disclaimer:** I'm sure you've read this enough times to know that I don't own Hetalia or the characters.

~Random ( " ^ - ^ )/


	6. Day Six

**Thursday, December 6th 2012**

The chilly air whipped against the British civilians' cheeks, darkening their complexions as they stumbled along the ice coated streets. Cocooned within multiple layers of clothing, the warmth of their bodies gave a sharp contrast to the cool temperature of any exposed skin.  
Among these civilians were a group of siblings, the British Nations – or at least their personifications. England, Scotland, Wales, both Irelands and Sealand were shuffling their way towards the town centre for a seasonal ceremony – the lighting of the Christmas decorations.  
Every year, the town would put various decorations up around the town – lights strung from building to building, light-up Santa heads, and of course the great tree; the giant Christmas tree was always the very epicentre of the event, donning lights and baubles galore, and topped off with a glowing star decoration.  
The Nations soon reached the destination of the ceremony, lucky enough to get a fair view from the crowd, with the exception of Peter who had to be hoisted up onto Iain's shoulders in order to see. They stood around for about fifteen minutes, making light conversation about no subject in particular, before the ceremony began.  
It began with the harsh cry of a trumpet from the town's band. These cries soon developed into a jolly rendition of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas", which went down well with the excited crowd. Within the dying moments of the tune, the crowd applauded and the band left the makeshift stage.  
Next came a group of pink cheeked schoolchildren wearing wool hats, gloves and scarfs, as well as thick jackets to make sure they didn't get too cold – this was most likely the dress code from the school. Within their gloved hands they nervously clutched sheets of paper containing the lyrics to the songs they would sing, as they were the choir delegated to sing at the event. A woman entered the stage with them, obviously being their teacher; the teacher had long black hair which tumbled down her back in waves, and wore a brown trench coat with high-heeled black boots over black trousers. The teacher smiled warmly at her class, giving them a few words of encouragement, before nodding towards the town band to begin playing the music which would accompany the choir.  
The introduction to "O Come All Ye Faithful" was sounded, followed by the song itself and the voices of the children in the choir. Their voices varied – some soft and sweet, some harsh and bold – but in unison they harmonised beautifully. In many of the audience's opinions, the most magical sounding song sung by the group had to be "Happy Xmas – War is Over"; the song had harmonies in all the right places, the voices weren't too loud or too quiet, and emotion was there within the lyrics. This tune was a hit with the crowd, and after one blazing rendition of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer", the choir was applauded offstage.  
Replacing them was the Children's Pipe Band for the town. The bagpipes droned, the snare drums tapped, the tenor drummers twirled their sticks and the big bass drum beat steady rhythms as they played through a seemingly never-ending version of "The 12 Days of Christmas". Naturally, the crowd were relieved when it was finally over.  
The climax of the ceremony had arrived – the lighting of the decorations. Up on the balcony of the town hall, which directly faced the tree, stood a man dressed as Santa Claus, accompanied by the mayor's daughter and another man dressed as Jack Sparrow. The girl looked to be around twelve years old, and had an overenthusiastic smile plastered across her face as she stood between the two men, who were also smiling. Santa took a microphone to his mouth and announced, "And now, the lights shall be lit by the mayor's daughter!"  
The girl pressed a red button on a small pad in her hand, which caused a chain reaction of multi-coloured, flashing lights to switch on, much to the awe of the crowd. A large applause was given, and just about every person watching had a smile on their faces.  
Peter's grin stretched across his face, eyes full of joy at the beautiful decorations illuminating the cold night. He looked down at his siblings, who also looked glad to see the lights up once more. Peter smiled at them before looking back up to the light-filled sky.  
Now he really felt like it was Christmas.

**End Day Six**

**AUTHOR NOTES:** Not much of the Kirklands in this chappie I'm afraid ^-^"  
A lot of you guys seem to like Sea-Kun, I see~  
Well I'll give you a hint; the next chapter has quite a lot of him in it :D  
Thank you again for the positive response guys! I love youuuu~!

**Disclaimer:** Hetalia belongs not to me, but to Himaruya-sama. Christmas belongs to the Grinch, 'cause he stole it, right?

~Random o~( ^ u ^ )~o


	7. Day Seven

**Friday, December 7th 2012**

It was around half past nine in the evening when Wy was jolted from her seat by the annoying ringing of the mobile that had previously sat stationary in her pocket. Not even bothering to check the caller ID, she grumpily accepted the call, annoyed at having been interrupted while painting.

"What do you want?"

"Wy, hey! Meet me at my place in an hour, 'kay? See ya then, bye!"

Before Wy had a chance to even think of a reply, the phone call was ended. She stared down at her phone in confusion, attempting to process what had just happened. It was obviously Sealand, she could recognise that annoying squeak anywhere, but what did he want? What was it that he had said again? Meet us in an hour? What on earth did that boy want so late at night?

Wy shrugged picked up her paintbrushes and palette in order to wash them before she left, remembering that Sealand was ten hours behind her time zone, so it wasn't even afternoon yet where he lived.

* * *

Over in Italy, Seborga had been awoken early by a visit from an overly cheerful Spaniard (here to see Romano, of course), so was prepared when his phone buzzed eagerly in his pocket.

"Ciao?"

"Hey Seborga! Meet me at my place in an hour, 'kay? See ya then, bye!"

Once again, no time was given for the Italian to process what had been said before the phone clicked and the call ended. Seborga was befuddled for a while, until he began to attempt to understand the rapid fire speech of the young seaman. When he finally got it, Seborga told his brothers where he was going before donning shoes and a light jacket and nation-hopping to Britain.

* * *

A knock was heard on the front door and Sealand rushed forward to answer it. Peering into the outdoors, his eyes registered that Wy had arrived. The Australian was scowling in a thick pink winter coat, complete with a red scarf and black trousers with boots. Her brown hair was pulled into her usual ponytail.  
"Wy! Hi! Come in!" Sealand greeted, grinning and letting the girl inside.  
As Wy stepped in the warm house, she asked Sealand, "Why on earth were you calling me to come over so late at night? Or so early in the day, in Britain I suppose."  
Sealand merely grinned and answered, "You'll find out soon!"  
Not too long after, Seborga showed up, looking freezing in a thin green jacket. "I-I forgot how c-cold it is here."  
"Come on in then!" Sealand laughed.

Once the three micronations had congregated in the dining room, Peter told them his plan for the day.  
"We're gonna be carol singers!"

"What?!" "Che?"

* * *

The town centre was bustling with people, eager to buy gifts for their loved ones before getting out of the cold once more. In the centre square, by the Christmas tree, stood an odd group of people; three teenagers dressed in a reindeer suit, a Santa suit and a tree suit. These three oddballs were standing in the frigid weather, clutching lyrics in their hands and belting them out tunelessly to the public. Children stared as they passed, only to be pulled on by their parents. Some told the singers to be quiet, others politely ignored them. Nevertheless, the three persevered throughout the ordeal.  
It only ended when, as they sung "We Wish You a Merry Christmas", a shoe was flung by someone in the crowd, consequently hitting the blonde boy – Peter – on the head.  
"Hey, who threw this?! That hurt, you bully!"

Peter was soon dragged home by his friends, where they were treated to refreshing mugs of hot beverages in front of the fire as they played games on Peter's various consoles.

All in all, Sealand's plan had failed once again.

**End Day Seven**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES: **'Sup dudes?

God, I can imagine this happening so clearly, I just wish I had written more details…

Thanks again for your positive reactions to the previous chapters! I hope you continue to enjoy them as they continue ^-^  
Okay, maybe there wasn't all that much Sea-Kun in this chappie, but he was there, I suppose? :S  
Che? = What? In Italian as far as I know :D  
Nation hopping - has anyone ever read "Behind the Mask" by Kimanda? You might see where I got this from then!  
Nation hopping is how the nations get from one country to another without having to take a plane or train. They basically concentrate hard on where they want to go and walk forward, then they're there! It's a bit like apparition, for those who read/saw Harry Potter :3 Nation hopping isn't my theory though, Kimanda came up with it so credit them, and read their story if you want. It's awesome, and really long ^-^

See ya!

**Disclaimer: **n o

~Random \õ/


	8. Day Eight

**Saturday, December 8th 2012**

It was just an average morning in the Kirkland household. England was first to rise, followed by Wales, Sealand, North, Eire and Scotland. When Scotland finally did get up though, he had a plan formulated in his devious mind. A smirk donned his face as he entered the kitchen where England was making a cup of tea and Sealand was looking for food.  
"Mornin' ladies." Scotland greeted.  
"Morning Iain!" Sealand replied, while England settled for scowling at his older brother as he poured tea into four mugs.  
"Ah, it seems peace has been shattered. And I was wishing you would just stay in bed. Oh well, all good things must come to an end, it seems." England stated melodramatically.  
Scotland pretended to scoff. "What? Stay in bed? When have _I _ever lazed in bed all day?" He laughed at England's raised eyebrow and continued. "Why on earth would I _want_ to stay in bed all day anyways? Wasting all that time that I could be using to go ice skating?"  
Sealand perked up, his head hitting the door of an open cupboard as his head shot up. Grimacing at the slight pain, he still had a hopeful expression on his face. "Ice skating? Really? Can we?"  
Scotland smiled warmly at the micronation. "Of course we can, Peter." He turned to his other brother. "You'll be coming too, right Arthur?"  
"What? I have no intention-" England was cut off by a hand grasping his wrist.  
"Great, let's go!" Scotland yelled, pulling England out the door, followed by a chuckling Sealand.  
"Wait you bloody git, what about the tea?!"  
North entered the kitchen, smirking at what he had just witnessed. "Ice skating, eh? Well, I'm sure we can make that a little more…_entertaining,_ don't you think Em?"  
Eire followed her twin, the same expression mimicked on her face. "You know what, Conor? I think we shall."  
Wales entered the kitchen, having wondered what all the commotion was about. "What happened?"  
"We're going ice skating." North told him. "Coming?"  
Wales sighed. "I guess I should come to keep you out of trouble…"  
And so the Kirklands left for the ice skating rink, though three of them were unaware that their other siblings would also be present…

* * *

When they reached the ice rink, it wasn't exactly was Peter expected. Rather than a building with the rink inside, it was a large lake that had frozen over and had been deemed safe to skate on. Peter's eyes lit up – he had never been to one of these types of ice rink before. Excited, he jumped out of the car and rushed over to the ice, being careful not to slip on his way. Iain chuckled and followed him, accompanied by a reluctant Arthur. When they reached the boy, Scotland put a hand on his shoulder and held out some ice skating boots to Sealand. "You're gonna need these if you wanna skate, mate."  
Peter grinned and plopped himself on the cold ground, not caring about the snow as he strapped on his boots. Iain handed Arthur his pair and copied his youngest brother in strapping on his boots. Arthur merely stood staring at the boots, a confused expression on his face.  
"Where on earth did you get these?"  
"Did you not notice?" Scotland looked up at the blonde. "I had them in my car all the time! I'm surprised neither of you saw them."  
England scowled weakly before strapping on his boots. Standing up proved to be tough, but they were able to succeed after using each other to lean on as they stood. They then waddled onto the ice, still using each other as supports. Sealand, eager to show off his skills, soon let go and began to attempt to skate on his own, but inevitably failed and fell flat on his face. England rushed over to him, as he was able to skate well enough to do so, and helped him up.  
"Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"  
Sealand shook his head. "Nope, I'm okay."  
Scotland skated over to the pair. "Peter, maybe I should help you with your skating. You need to brush up on those skills of yours if you wanna get the ladies, pal." Scotland winked, chuckling at Sealand's slightly pink face.  
From then on, Scotland helped Sealand to improve his skating skills as England skated leisurely around the rink, secretly enjoying himself. He was rather graceful as he went, dipping in between advancing civilians who were also present at the rink. The three Kirklands were happy.  
But the fun was yet to begin.

* * *

Eire clasped her hands together, standing in front of her brothers. "Okay, so we are all present, right?"  
"Right!" North and Wales answered in unison, the former being a little more enthusiastic than the latter.  
"And we're gonna cause some mischief, right?"  
"Right!" Wales looked wary at the thought of this.  
"So we're gonna put on our disguises and go, right?"  
"Right!"  
"Let's go!"  
"Yeah!"

* * *

The three mischief-makers were soon ready, wearing various disguises so their brothers did not find them out so easily. They stepped out onto the ice, nodding to each other before skating off in different directions.  
North skated left. He glided along the ice, smiling and acting natural. He kept his eyes peeled for his target.  
Wales skated right. He was not as confident on the ice, so he skated with less speed and skill. But he could easily use this to his advantage though.  
Eire skated straight ahead. As planned, she was not going to skate in a circle like the other skaters; she skated sporadically, weaving through gaps and creating strange patterns on the ice with her skates.  
North soon encountered his target. Smirking to himself, the Nation stuck his foot out just a tad more than it should usually. England's skate caught on the one that stuck out in front of him, causing him to fall flat on the ice with a shriek. He looked up, scowling around him to find whoever's foot that was, but North had already skated off in the opposite direction, his job done.  
When Wales came across his target, it was easy to cause trouble. He pretended to lose control of his skates and flew forward with a cry of shock. He collided with another person, who fell along with the Nation. When they landed, Wales took a peek at the victim. Despite his hard work, he had fallen on the wrong person, landing accidentally on a civilian. Apologising profusely, he helped the civilian up and left the ice, having failed at his duty.  
Eire was on a roll. Her sporadic skating had bowled over a few people, both civilians and her brothers, but she didn't apologise. The climax of her plan was about to begin. The girl came to an abrupt stop in the centre of the lake, a scared expression on her face. She glanced down, then her head shot up and her mouth opened; a scream poured out of her voice, loud and clear, as she cried for help. She backed away from the centre of the ice, falling over on another skater, who just so happened to by Arthur.  
Arthur was extremely worried. "Miss, calm down, there's nothing there."  
When Emily's screaming concluded, Arthur asked her, "What on earth is wrong?"  
Em smirked, turning to face the Englishman.  
"BOO!"  
"GAH!"

* * *

"Emily you prat, you could have broken my head!" England scolded, scowling at his older sister.  
Eire pretended to act all innocent. "But Arthur, I didn't mean to…"  
"You know fine well that you did!"  
"Well say I did," Eire went back to her usual personality, "you can't deny that that was _hilarious_!"  
"No it wasn't!"  
Scotland laughed at his siblings. "Alright, calm down, stop bickering. It was funny, I can't deny that."  
Sealand nodded. "You face when Em screamed in your face was hilarious!"  
"I wish I'd brought my camera!" North laughed.  
Wales shook his head as he carried through a tray laden with drinks. "You're all so childish."  
"Hey, you were a part of this too you know!"  
And the remainder of the night was spent bickering and laughing.

**End Day Eight**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES:** There we go; I hope you liked this chappie!  
It's longer than it should be, by about 300 words, but whatever.  
That's all! See ya next time!

**Disclaimer: **http (colon) / (remove this) .net (forward slash) runner (forward slash) jennifers (forward slash)

~Random o(^_^)o


	9. Day Nine

**Sunday, December 9th 2012**

_He was walking. He didn't know where he was, or where he was going, but he was walking. And he continued to walk. His surroundings were unclear, an unimportant feature in the dream. All that mattered was that he kept walking. He didn't know why, but he had to continue walking.  
He stopped abruptly, feeling a presence. He turned around, looking for the presence when suddenly-_

"WAKE UP IAIN, IT'S SNOWING!"  
His eyes snapped open, yelping in surprise at the sight of an overly excited micronation shaking his shoulders and yelling in his ears. He sat up, causing Peter to cease his attempt to awaken his older brother.  
"Stop your yelling, will ya? You're gonna make me deaf!" Iain complained.  
"But Iain, it's snowing!" Peter exclaimed. "Come see!"  
Iain reluctantly rose from his bed and stumbled over to the window, peering out over the scene; it had indeed been snowing overnight, and the snowflakes were still falling past the window, making their steady descent towards their already-fallen friends. The trees and bushes were coated with white, and children could already be seen playing outside in the snow. It was a beautiful scene.  
"Come on, let's go play in it!" Peter tugged on his older brother's arm, attempting to move him away from the window to go outside. Iain chuckled at the attempt.  
"I've still gotta get changed, you know. I'll be down in five minutes, okay?"  
Peter nodded reluctantly and left the room in favour of waiting for his brother in the snow outside.

* * *

After changing into warmer clothing, a jacket and boots, Scotland made his way downstairs and through the front door into the garden, where he found the remainder of his siblings. Sealand was building a snowman with Wales, The Irish twins were making snowballs, and England was standing against a wall, sipping a drink from a warm mug with a small smile on his face. Scotland chuckled to himself before joining England.  
"I see he dragged you out too?" Scotland commented.  
"For the record, I was already up anyway." England scowled, having had his peace shattered into tiny fragments.  
"Whatever you say." Scotland laughed in return. "Although, you can't really complain, can you?"  
England pondered this for a moment. "I suppose you're right. As long as he's having fun, I won't complain. Plus I still get to drink my tea without being bothered _too_ much." He added as a side note.  
"Okay, okay, I'll go if I'm bothering you that much!" Scotland laughed, holding up his hands as if surrendering.  
The Scotsman walked over to the half built snowman that Wales and Sealand were creating. "You guys alright?"  
Sealand looked up and grinned. "Yup! Making snowmen is so fun!"  
Wales chortled quietly. "He says he wants to make it look like Arthur then knock it down."  
Scotland let out a loud laugh at this remark. "Well, have fun with that."  
"Do you want to help?" Sealand asked. "We could always use a spare hand!"  
"As enticing as that sounds, I'm gonna have to decline. See ya."  
"Okay." Peter stated, defeated.  
As Scotland walked over to the house, he was hit by an unexpected snowball. Half-smiling to himself, he bent to the ground and made his own snowball. Turning around, he scanned the area, finally spotting the Irish twins laughing about something. Smile widening, Scotland took aim before firing the snowball at the pair. The bundle of cold hit North straight in the face, causing him to stumble backwards in surprise. He wiped the snow off his pink face, scowling in the direction that the snow came from. He was handed a snowball by Eire, and took aim, ready to throw the snowball. Instead of hitting the initial target, however, England, who was unlucky enough to be walking across the path of the snowball, ended up with an earful of snow. He stopped in his path, glaring to himself before turning towards the Irish twins, who were laughing at their brother's reaction. But this didn't last long though, because soon they were being pelted with an onslaught of snowballs, most of which were fired by the angry wrath of a certain Englishman. Scotland joined England, helping him to pile up his ammo and propel it at the opposition, who were desperately trying not to be beaten. Sealand was rolling on the floor with laughter at the side lines, and even Wales was chuckling at the event.  
The match ended with a win for England's team, but not before England had beaten the crap not only out of the Ireland twins, but also Scotland, out of a sheer adrenaline rush.

England caught a cold that night.

**End Day Nine**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES:** I'm mean to Iggy, I gave him a cold XD  
Well, he got back at the Irish twins! :D  
On another completely unrelated note, I'm uploading a HetaOni LP to Youtube while I write this, and it's taking forever -_-  
Oh well~  
See ya next time! :D

**Disclaimer:**Me no own Heta stuff – you understand?

~Random ヽ(´ー`)ﾉ


	10. Day Ten

**Monday, December 10th 2012**

Monday was a rather slow day for the British Nations. Sealand was out with his friends, Wales was on Skype with New Zealand, Scotland was watching television with North, and Eire was on the Xbox.  
And what about England, you ask? Well, he had popped down the street to a card shop in order to stock up on Christmas cards to send to the other Nations as well as any mortal friends they may have had at the time. Despite the slight cold that he had caught the day before, he didn't want to leave any of his siblings to shop for them. He bypassed the cheesy novelty cards which some of his brothers would have certainly chosen (and had done so in the past) in favour of picking out some delicately detailed formal cards wishing the receiver a "Happy Holidays" or "Happy Noel". England smiled to himself, fairly happy with his purchases after he had bought his chosen cards. Now all he had to do was convince his siblings to write some…

* * *

"I'm home." England called as he stepped inside the warm house, being sure to close the door quickly so as not to let the heat out. He walked through to the living room and placed his purchases on the coffee table. Scotland glanced at the bag, wondering what type of cards were to be used this year.  
"Let me guess: overly formal cards that belong in the nineteenth century?" Scotland estimated.  
England scowled at his older brother. "They are detailed, with interesting designs and festive greetings. At least they aren't bloody cartoon reindeers crashing into planes or whatever it was that you bought last time."  
"It was a Santa actually." Scotland corrected.  
"It doesn't matter! Anyways, I'm going to get the others through here. I also bought some new pens if you'd like to use them." England told the more northerly Nation before heading through to tell the others. Scotland sighed; he was tired of the same old boring routine when writing cards. At least if he got it over with tonight he wouldn't have to worry about it later…

* * *

Soon the six of the Brits were seated around the coffee table, muffled Christmas songs playing quietly in the background. Wales and England were diligently writing their cards, focused on the task at hand and nothing else. North and Sealand were doing their job, but they did it lazily and without much effort. Scotland and Eire merely flicked pieces of torn up envelope at each other, bored already of writing cards. England scowled at the pair, scolding them for not doing their job right. Eire remarked with a jibe on how England's government never did its job properly either. This caused England to flare up at the girl, arguing and yelling that his government did its job exactly right and that Ireland's government should take a leaf from their book sometime. The two were soon stopped, however, by Scotland forcing a cup of tea down England's throat and Wales giving Eire a pint of Guinness.  
Sealand ended up texting his friends under the table, bored of his seniors' antics. North and Eire were cracking open the Guinness, drinking their way through plenty a can. England also got his hands on some in the end, so the three of them ended up completely hammered. Scotland had a can or two as well, but remained reasonably sober and laughed at the drunken Nations in their state. Wales ended up finishing writing the cards and tidying up all of the mess that had been left by them, not wanting to get drunk and leave Sealand having to deal with five hangovers plus a heap of cleaning in the morning.

And those hangovers were _bad_.

**End Day Ten**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES:** W00T! Day 10! :D  
That was a failure, I believe :D  
Slightly boring chapter maybe? Idk.  
Thanks again for the positive response! :D (I keep forgetting to put this here!)

**Disclaimer:** Hima papa would not be happy if I said Hetalia was mine

~Random (o´ω`o)ﾉ~


	11. Day Eleven

**Tuesday, December 11th 2012**

England's cold had gotten worse over those few days. He woke up on Tuesday with a thumping headache, courtesy of a hangover, and a dreadful coughing fit. Wales had come up to see what was wrong and found England, lying limp in bed, a hand clasped over his mouth as coughs racked through his body. He was then pronounced 'ill', and no-one was allowed to enter his room in case of catching the bug.  
"He's finally able to get some rest." Wales informed his siblings when he came downstairs from checking on their brother. "Let's hope he gets a good sleep before he wakes up again, that cough could keep him up all night if he's not lucky."  
Sealand was worried about his older brother. It was true that he would often come down with colds like this, but Peter would worry each time just as much, despite the knowledge that it would be alright in the end. Because of these worries, the micronation snuck upstairs, careful not to let Wales see; if Wales noticed, Peter would be sent back downstairs or to his room, since nobody was allowed entrance to England's room.  
Luckily, the young boy went undetected, and he had soon reached his brother's room. He stood quietly outside the door, a hand raised ready to knock on the door. Before he was able to knock, however, a quiet voice from inside called, "It's rude to stand in doorways, you know. Come in."  
Startled, Sealand's fist paused in mid-air, but he soon recovered and entered the room.  
"Ah, Peter. It's nice to see you."  
England was sitting up in his bed, a book in his hands as he half-smiled at the boy in the entrance. He was rather pale, and a pile of crumpled up tissues sat unwanted in the bin which was situated beside the bed.  
"Come, you can sit down you know."  
Peter nodded and walked forward, sitting on the comfortable bed by England's side. "Are you…okay?" he asked tentatively.  
Arthur smiled in response. "I'm not the best, but I'm alright, I suppose."  
"That's good to hear." Peter smiled weakly in response.  
They were silent for a few minutes as Peter glanced down at the book.  
"Harry Potter?"  
Arthur smiled, looking down at his book. "Yes, Harry Potter. I know it seems childish, but the magic of this book, it makes me feel at home when I read it. Many books also make me feel like that, but I am in a Harry Potter mood."  
"Which one is it?"  
"I'm still only on the Philosopher's Stone, as I just started reading today."  
"Can you…read to me?"  
Arthur smiled warmly at his brother. "Of course I can."  
Peter sat between his brother's legs under the covers, listening intently as Arthur recited the fantasy novel. He provided voices for each character; slow and deep for Snape, measured and intellectual for Dumbledore, high-pitched and girlish for Hermione. He read with emotions in his voice, making it seem as realistic as possible for the younger Nation. The pair read on for a while, not stopping even when Wales entered the room. Wales was not happy that Sealand had slipped past his careful guard, but was happy to see his brothers so happy and even joined the listening after a while. Scotland also made an appearance.  
"Harry Potter, eh? I bet you wish you could be him, eh Arthur? Then at least you'd be able to perform _some_ basic spells at least."  
England scowled and stopped reading. "I _can_ perform spells perfectly well. Perhaps it's you that cannot?"  
Scotland scoffed. "Let's see now, which country is Hogwarts situated in again? I'm sure that was mine, right?"  
"Yes. And?"  
"That might be why you're not as good, I suppose. Oh well, carry on!"  
Scotland left the room then, and the Englishman carried on with his reading.  
North and Eire also made appearances, but didn't cause any trouble for once. North leaned against the door, listening to England's reading, while Eire pretended to browse the books, secretly listening for a while before leaving again with her twin.

* * *

The reading only ended when England's throat began to crack, signalling that they had read enough for one night. They had almost finished the book, and both England and Sealand wanted to carry on, but Wales was able to convince them that they should stop for the night as England was ill and probably didn't want to lose his voice. Sealand accepted this and bid his brothers goodnight, dreaming of Quidditch and magic in his sleep.

**End Day Eleven**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES: **D'awww, fluffy illness time~  
Last chapter I forgot that England was ill :L Let's just say his cold wasn't that bad yet.  
But it got worse…  
Hehe ^-^  
Hope you enjoyed!  
Oh yeah, I just watched the end of someone's LP of HetaOni.  
SO. MANY. FEELS. D'X

On another note, thank you once more for the positive feedback! It really makes my day! :D

**Disclaimer: **Hetalia~ Hetalia~ Hetalia is not mine~!  
Neither is Harry Potter – that belongs to J.K. Rowling~

~Random (∩_∩)


	12. Day Twelve

**Wednesday, December 12th 2012**

The car engine fell to a silence as the car moved into parking position. The occupants removed their seatbelts and exited the vehicle, standing in a group beside the car.  
"Alright," the eldest, a red-headed Scotsman spoke, "we'll split up into groups and meet back here in three hours. Feel free to buy food, since we'll only be getting a chippie on the way home. Now, form your groups!"  
The Irish twins linked arms, Peter moved to stand beside Arthur, and James nodded to the eldest. The three groups then said their goodbyes and set off in different directions.

* * *

Today the UK brothers (plus Eire) were shopping in the town for presents for their friends and family members - half of the reason why they had split up into three groups. Admittedly, they wouldn't be able to buy anything for the person they were shopping with, but that could be dealt with later.  
The Irish twins were set off toasted the nearest practical joke shop, intent on buying their younger brother Arthur something that would scare him and piss him off to no avail. The joke shop was filled with various joke items, ranging from backwards clocks and grow-you-own boyfriends to jack in the boxes that head-butted the one who opened the box and books that insulted the reader when they opened it. The twins browsed the wares, searching for the perfect joke gift for their dear little brother. It was only after around half an hour that they finally found it.

* * *

Arthur and Peter had meanwhile browsed their way through three shops and were now in their fourth. They hadn't found any suitable gifts yet, but they were sure they'd find some soon.  
The only problem was that Peter wanted to visit a game shop Arthur didn't want him to go alone, and didn't particularly want to visit this shop.  
"Oh please Arthur!" Peter begged his older brother. "Just for five minutes!"  
After ten minutes of Peter's pleading, he finally gave in and they visited the game store.

* * *

Iain and James had only been in one store, but they were able to buy quite a few gifts in there. Iain had already bought Arthur's and the twins' gifts, so all that was left was Peter, James and a few of his friends. James on the other hand had bought Peter's gift and a present for New Zealand, but that was all so far. They weren't too bothered about which shops to go to, since they'd most likely be buying similar gifts anyhow.

* * *

About two hours later, the six Nations were reunited by the car, hiding unwrapped gifts from the prying eyes of the hosier ones. After making sure everyone was present and had all of their items, they got in the car and began to drive homewards.

They did of course stop off at the chippie on the way home, ordering six steaming hot boxes which concealed the fish and chips that they would drool over until they reached their home.

**End Day Twelve**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES**: I didn't like this chapter...  
Oh well...  
I also wrote this on my phone, so please excuse any mistakes ^-^"  
Thank you again for the positive reaction! Love y'all! :3

**Disclaimer: ** no tengo Hetalia~!

~Random （＾＿＾）


	13. Day Thirteen

**Thursday, December 13th 2012**

The next day, Peter woke up earlier than usual, at around nine in the morning. He stretched a little before deciding to get out of bed, since he couldn't go back to sleep and he had nothing else to do. He swung his legs over to the ground and allowed his feet to make contact with the fluffy carpet that covered the ground. His toes soaked up the softness of the carpet as the boy stretched his back before standing up and heading out of his room.  
Down the stairs he travelled, ending up in the kitchen where nobody was standing, for once. Peter shrugged to himself and poured some juice to have with his breakfast of Coco Pops. He then carried his bowl, spoon and drink through to the living room and ate his breakfast, watching some of the shows that were being showed at that time on this day. After eating, he carried his dishes into the kitchen to be washed later.  
He returned to the living room, intent on opening the next door on his advent calendar. He removed it from the hook it was hanging on and found the thirteenth door, using his short fingernail to pull the door away from the rest of the card around it. However, he should have known something was wrong when the door was already partially opened, as the tinfoil inside was already ripped apart and the chocolate treat was missing.  
Peter's eyes widened in horror as he stared at the empty compartment; his chocolate treat was gone- no, it had been stolen! But who had done it? Who had stolen Peter's delicious chocolate treat?!  
He ran through the possibilities in his head; Arthur wouldn't have done it – he didn't like the cheap chocolate inside this type of calendar, James wouldn't have done it – he wasn't the type to steal things, so that left Iain and the Irish twins…  
He wouldn't put it past any of those three to steal it.

* * *

When Arthur and James got up after sleeping in for so long, they were dragged into the Chocolate Investigation by a suspicious Peter, who questioned them both about the theft before asking them for help in his investigation, as neither of them had eaten his chocolate.  
"Well, I suppose you're right in thinking it may have been Iain or the Irish twits, but who is most likely to have done it?" Arthur questioned, thinking thoroughly about the situation.  
"If it was any one of the Irish twins, then the other would have helped." James added. "Iain would have just done it himself."  
"Perhaps it was Iain, then?" Peter asked.  
"It's just a theory for now." Arthur told the boy. "We'll find out soon enough, don't worry."

* * *

As soon as Iain woke up, he was dragged through to a chair in the dining room and tied down. "What the feck are you doing?!" he yelled.  
"We just need to do a bit of questioning, don't worry." Arthur assured him, letting Peter take a seat across the table from the victim of the questioning.  
"Alright, Iain," Peter begun, "I am going to ask you one simple question: did you steal the chocolate from door number thirteen on my advent calendar?"  
Iain was dumbstruck. "What are you going on about? What chocolate?"  
Sealand began to explain. "I awoke this morning to find the chocolate in my advent calendar for today completely gone. I am asking if you were the one who took it."  
"Peter, you know I wouldn't do that, especially since I have my own advent calendar!"  
"…oh…"  
Iain was then untied from the chair and recruited to join the search for the thief.

* * *

"Did you do it?"  
"Do what?"  
"You know what I mean, so did you do it?!"  
"I haven't the foggiest idea what the hell you're on about here."  
"LISTEN DID YOU STEAL THE CHOCOLATE FROM MY ADVENT CALENDAR OR WHAT?!"  
"What? Why on earth would I do that? Please don't shout at me either, I've got enough of a headache as is."  
"…sorry, I got a bit overexcited…" Peter looked down in shame.  
"It's fine." North smiled at the boy. "Also, don't bother questioning Em, she wouldn't have done it either."  
"Okay." Sealand agreed. "So, who did it then?"  
North smiled cunningly. "I think you know exactly who did it."  
"What?"  
"Peter, don't you remember? You ate it last night because you were hungry."  
Peter froze as realisation hit him like a brick to the face.  
"OH."

**End Day Thirteen**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES: **I liked most of this chapter, especially the realisation~ It was fun to write! :D  
Thank you once again for the positive feedback! You guys are awesome!  
We're halfway there guys! Twelve sleeps, you guys excited? :D

**Disclaimer: **Ich habe nicht Hetalia~  
I don't have Coco Pops either…

~Random /)^3^(\


	14. Day Fourteen

**Friday, December 14th 2012**

Peter was bored. He had been playing on the computer for only two hours, but the boredom had finally settled in. The micronation scowled at the screen as he continued to draw angry lines on Paint, filling in the spaces with bright colours. He had soon created a colourful array of lines, but was still bored. He felt the strange to do something…productive…  
Not knowing what to do, he used Google to search for something productive to do. Nothing in particular seemed to stand out to him, with the exception of one particular activity…  
And so, he closed his internet pages and left to go to the kitchen.

* * *

Once in the kitchen, Peter stood on his tip-toes, reaching up for the Christmas Cookbook that his youngest older brother used each year, usually ending in a failed result. When Peter finally reached the book, he pulled it down from the shelf, careful to make sure that the other books didn't fall along with it, and flipped open its pages.  
The book was not only full of Christmas dessert recipes, but also filled with main courses, starters and drinks, though Peter ignored these three chapters. The chapter that he flipped to was entitled 'Christmas Cookies'.  
_Gingerbread – can't have that, no-one likes it…rum cookies – Arthur will probably get drunk from them…cookie hearts – ugh, girlie…  
_And then he finally found something he could make.  
"'Gift Cookies', eh?"

* * *

Peter had set to work; weighing out the ingredients and mixing them together, spreading out the dough and using shaped cookie cutters to make them look cool – the micronation thought he was doing rather well with his baking.  
So much so that, while his cookies were in the oven, he began to make another batch of them for boredom's sake. This time though, Arthur entered the room while he was weighing the ingredients.  
"Hm? What's this…ah, you're baking? Perhaps I can help out?" the Englishman offered, green eyes gleaming.  
Peter laughed awkwardly and attempted to decline his offer politely. "Oh no, that's okay Arthur, I'm almost done anyway."  
"Why, but you're only in the weighing process! I think a bit of help would speed up the process!"  
England rolled up his sleeves and stepped towards the bowl that Sealand had abandoned when he realised that there was no hope of stopping his older brother from baking. Sealand sighed and checked on his already-baking cookies, which were halfway towards being ready. He then resorted to watching Arthur mess up his mixture. Peter wanted to tell Arthur that he was doing it wrong, but he knew that the older man would just scoff and tell him that he was doing it completely right, thank you very much.  
Arthur continued to mix the ingredients into a dough-like mixture, though it was a tad too crumbly and wouldn't stay together very well. Frustrated, the Briton pounded at the mixture, attempting to force it together. Peter, who was getting just a tad annoyed, stopped his brother after a few minutes.  
"Arthur, it's not staying together."  
"Don't you think I know that?"  
"It's too dry. Add a bit of water or something." Peter advised, leaning against the adjacent counter to the one which was being worked upon.  
Arthur froze, then laughed it off. "I knew that…"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Peter's cookies had been replaced in the oven by Arthur's slightly messy cookies. While Arthur's cooked and Peter's cooled, Arthur put on the kettle for a nice hot cup of tea while Peter got out his DS and began to play Pokémon again. For a while they did this, until Arthur's cookies were ready (only slightly charred for once) and Peter's were cool enough to ice.  
"Now since these are my cookies, you aren't allowed to ice them," Peter commanded, taking charge, "because you have your own to ice when they're cool."  
Arthur rolled his eyes and nodded before retreating to the living room to kill time.  
Relieved to finally have his brother out of his workspace, the micronation set to icing the cookies. Using the icing pens stashed in the cupboard, he drew various patterns such as snowballs and snowmen or Santa and reindeer on the cookies. By the time he had finished designing his cookies, Arthur's cookies had finished cooling and the Englishman was icing them daintily, making them look beautiful despite their strange taste. Arthur did seem to have a talent for designing elaborate things such as icing cookies or embroidering fabric.  
Meanwhile Peter, who was more that pleased with his cookies, placed a few on a plate to allow his family members to taste them. He was glad that he had baked, as it had gotten rid of some of the boredom.

But he still had three hours to kill until dinnertime.

**End Day Fourteen**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES:** I love Christmas backing, it's so fun~!  
All of the recipes mentioned are from a book called "The Perfect Christmas" – my mum recently made some of the things in it and they were _divine!  
_…And he got bored again XD  
Thank you once more for the positive reactions and stuff! I'm glad you love it and I hope I can continue to kill you with fluff- I mean, write enjoyable days for youse…yeah…  
Bye!

**Disclaimer: **Yes, I definitely own Hetalia. I'm also the president of Sealand and the real Santa Claus at Lapland…  
Same goes for Google, Paint and The Perfect Christmas cookbook.

~Random ヽ(○´∀`)ﾉ


	15. Day Fifteen

**Saturday, December 15th 2012**

Peter was excited. Today he was being taken to Lapland to 'Santa's Grotto' to see what they claimed to be the real Santa Claus. Despite how most 12 year olds didn't believe in the Christmas spirit, Peter went against what they thought and believed in him anyhow. So he was overjoyed to be told that they could go to see Santa in Lapland. He could still remember when he was told about the trip…  
_"Hey, Peter." Iain called, walking up to his brother. "Say, what do you think about going on a little trip tomorrow?"  
"A trip?" Peter replied curiously. "What sort of trip?"  
"Well, it's abroad, and it'll be…festive." Iain grinned, making Peter frown.  
"The way you say 'festive' doesn't make me feel very sure…"  
"Aw, but it'll be fun!"  
"Well…I dunno…"  
"What if I told you we were going to visit a special man in a special place called Lapland?"  
Peter's face brightened. "Lapland? So you mean…"  
"Do you want to meet the real Santa Claus?"  
_After that, Peter had been bouncing off the walls with excitement and hyperactivity. He was dreaming of meeting Santa in Lapland for years, and now he was going to be able to go there! One quick trip and _bam!_ He'd be in the Grotto in no time.  
And so, he stood by the door, ready and waiting for Iain and Arthur to accompany him to Lapland.

* * *

After Nation-Hopping to Lapland, the three Nations were stood outside the Grotto of the Christmas man, waiting in the long queue to pay for entry. The three Nations chatted aimlessly until it was their turn. After paying the fee, they were able to enter the building and get out of the cold.  
The sight that awaited Peter's eyes could only be seen as magnificent. Fake icicles hung from the ceiling, while synthetic snowflakes drifted from fans in the ceiling and descended slowly towards the white material covering the floor. Miniature fir trees were dotted around the edges of the room, and some people dressed as elves were either standing near the queue or by the large red chair seated on a plinth at the rear of the room. Red ropes were provided as barriers for the queue, and the ropes closed just before the chair, only opened to let people through to see the one in the chair. Santa Claus was a portly man with a long white beard and cheerful blue eyes, concealed behind wire-rimmed spectacles. He wore the traditional red costume with a red hat sitting on his white hair. He was currently conversing with a small boy with a large grin on his face, who was listing what he wanted for Christmas. Santa gave a booming laugh and reached down into his seemingly endless sack and pulled out a green gift-wrapped box. Handing it to the boy with a smile, he told him something in a quiet voice which caused the boy's smile to widen as he hugged the man, who simply chuckled and hugged him back. The boy then leapt from Santa's lap and joined his mother, who had been waiting patiently at the side. She smiled and thanked the man before they took their leave. Peter smiled at the warm scene – Santa Claus seemed like such a kind and gentle man…  
After a few more children had seen Santa, it was finally Peter's turn. He positively pounced into Santa's lap, grinning cheekily up at the slightly startled man. He loudly announced himself as such: "Hello! I'm Peter Kirkland and I'm here to see you today Santa!" He then glanced around him before whispering into his ear, "Or should I say, _Mama Tino_…"  
Santa, or as had been revealed, Tino, chuckled and pinched Peter's cheek. "So you found me out, huh?" he whispered to his part-time son. "I didn't expect to see you here. And don't call me mama." He said the last part in a pretend stern voice.  
Peter giggled, ignoring the last comment. "Of course I'm here! I would have come anyways, even if Iain hadn't offered to take me here first."  
Tino chuckled at Peter. "How could you tell? Do I look too unrealistic? Or was it Berwald the elf that caught your eye?" He grinned at the stoic elf who stood closest to the red chair, making sure nobody came too close when it wasn't their turn.  
"Mostly Berwald, but I also knew when someone told me that it was the 'real Santa'. I mean, you _are_ the real Santa, aren't you?"  
"Of course I am." Tino laughed. "So, what do you want for Christmas, Peter?"  
Peter scrunched his eyebrows in thought. "I want…eh…I dunno…" It took a few minutes for him to formulate a good enough answer. "I know! I want to be recognised as a country! Or be a transformer…or both!" His eyes sparkled at the thought.  
Tino laughed, reaching down into his Santa sack. "Well, you'll be getting your big present from us on Christmas day, but for now you can have a small gift from my sack."  
"Thanks Mama Tino!"  
"Don't call me mama! And you're welcome."  
Peter hugged his part-time parent before hopping back off of Tino's knee. He then rushed over to Berwald the elf and gave him a bone-cracking hug before waving goodbye to them and heading over to where his older brothers stood.  
"You knew it was Mama Tino and Papa Berwald already, didn't you?" the micronation asked them.  
"Of course we did," Iain answered, "that's why we knew you'd love it!"  
And that is why Peter knew that Santa Claus was perfectly existent.

**End Day Fifteen**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES: **TEN SLEEPS TO CHRISTMAS! :D  
My friend's birthday is in five days too, and I need to buy the rest of her present…  
Sorry it's a bit later up, I was shopping for presents! :D  
Tomorrow's one's going to be a bit later too, but don't worry! It will be out on time, I promise! :D  
Thank you once more for all of the positive feedback!  
We've reached 50 reviews! Thank you all! :D  
Congrats to A.R. 0w0v for being the 50th reviewer! Have some virtual hugs from Peter, 'cause he's cute :3  
See ya tomorrow!

**Disclaimer: **I just realised that yesterday's disclaimer was kindof a hint for this chapter…  
I still own nothing, not even Santa!

~Random ﾐ(´┏ω┓｀)/


	16. Day Sixteen

**Sunday, December 16th 2012**

Today, the British family had a lazy type of day. They awoke late into the day – or at least later than they usually did – and merely lazed around the house, watching old festive movies and playing on various consoles or computers. At around five o'clock in the evening, dinner was served and the six Nations relaxed together in the living room, plates of chicken nuggets and chips (Peter's idea) resting on their laps as they watched movies such as 'Elf' and 'A Christmas Carol'. They ate their dinners and made light conversation throughout the film up until half past six, when they began to watch the results of the Strictly Come Dancing Semi-Final – don't judge them, they loved that show.  
"So, Arthur, who's going out tonight?" Iain asked his younger brother. Arthur had been predicted who would go out each night and had got it right for the majority of the time. Arthur smirked and looked back at the television as the opening theme for the show came on.  
"It could be anyone, couldn't it? Tonight, I'll keep my theories to myself, for the mystery."  
"I want Tracy Beaker to go through!" Peter piped up, referring to the actress who played this character, Dani Harmer.  
"She'll probably go through, she's an excellent dancer." Emily commented. "And her looks are stunning!"  
"You're telling me!" Connor winked at Iain, who did a strange dance with his eyebrows.  
Peter and Emily laughed while Arthur sighed at his childish siblings and James concealed a smirk. They then noticed that the show had begun and ceased their conversation to pay attention to it.

* * *

After the show ended, the six began to converse about the couple who had gone out.  
"Well, I suppose Lisa and Robin, while having plenty of charisma, didn't have as much technique in their American Smooth as Denise and James had in their Tango." Iain commented on the results.  
"Yeah, you could see the fiery passion in the tango, and their dancing was spectacular." James agreed. "Something about it drew me in more than the American Smooth did."  
"Exactly what I thought." Connor chipped in. "I mean, don't get me wrong, Lisa and Robin were great dancers and you could see how much she enjoyed being there, but I think Denise deserved to be in the final, she had the skills."  
"I liked Lisa." Peter pouted. "But at least Tracy Beaker's through!"  
"And what is your opinion, Arthur? Did you predict it correctly?" Emily asked the Englishman.  
Arthur scoffed. "Of course I predicted it correctly, who do you think I am? I thought that Denise and James were the better performers in both the dance-off and the performance last night. Lisa and Robin had great charisma, yes, and were lovely dancers, but it was just their time to go."  
The conversation continued for a while until Peter asked to put on a movie, so the Nations began to watch it. The movie was another slightly festive one named "Sleepless in Seattle." Peter loved this movie, and knew his siblings did too, despite having to watch it just about every Christmas.  
About halfway through the film, Peter fell asleep. It was around ten o' clock at night, so the Nations decided just to have an early night and go to bed. Iain picked up Peter from his resting place on Arthur's lap and carried him through to his bedroom, tucking him under the covers and placing a small kiss on his forehead before whispering a goodnight and leaving the room, turning off the light as he went. Peter snuggled into his covers, happily slumbering in dreamland.

**End Day Sixteen**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES:** First of all, sorry if any of you watch Strictly and didn't know who had gone out! :S  
Secondly, yes this is a lazy chapter with nothing happening. I don't care. I like it.  
Thank you once more for the positive feedback! I haven't replied to some of your reviews yet, but that's because I've been busy shopping and homework-ing :L  
See ya next time! :D

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Hetalia, I'm pretty sure I'd have enough money to actually buy myself something…so no, I don't :S

~Random ヽ(＾▽＾)人(＾▽＾)人(＾▽＾)ﾉ


	17. Day Seventeen

**Monday, December 17th 2012**

It was Christmastime. A time for sharing, loving, joy. Christmastime was a beautiful time of year. Shimmering lights strung above, shining throughout the darkness; families sitting together, laughing and conversing as they engaged in togetherness. These were the things that Peter loved about Christmastime.  
Arguments were not supposed to be part of the deal.  
Hatred was not supposed to be part of the deal.  
Suffering? Not part of the deal either.  
That's why Peter would get sensitive whenever people, especially those who he was close to, argued or fought – especially at Christmastime. He had seen wars, he had seen suffering, he was _born_ in the midst of the suffering in the world. He had had to become used to the fighting that continued throughout the years, but it still hurt to know that not everybody could be happy, not even for one day.  
This is why he was in a bit of a state on Monday, December 17th 2012.

* * *

"You complete _arse_! Why are you such a prat?!"  
"What, you think _I'm_ a prat?! I bloody saved your ungrateful arse!"  
"It's not like I was even in any danger! Am I not allowed to flirt every once in a while?!"  
"He could have been a rapist, or a murderer, or worse!"  
"I don't think you realise that I've been through a hell of a lot worse than anything he could have done to me. I could've just socked him unconscious with one punch if I wanted, but _no_. My over-protective _younger_ brother just _had_ to stick his skinny little nose in where it didn't belong!"  
"Well _sorry_ for looking out for you, _Republic of Ireland_."  
"No, I don't think you quite understand, _England_. I'm plenty older than you are, I don't need to be protected by you."  
"I was just making sure that you weren't hurt!"  
"So why is that?!" Eire suddenly flared up. "Since when do _you_ suddenly care about me?! 'Cause I'm sure you hated my guts five hours ago."  
"I never said I hated you, did I?!" England shot back, anger burning in his emerald eyes. Eire's eyes mirrored the effect, perhaps with a little more passion.  
"Hmm, let me think…" Eire mocked a thinking expression. "During the Irish Revolution, perhaps? Or all of those times when I 'screwed up your plans'?" She glared at the younger Nation. "I do think your previous statement was incorrect."  
England stared icily into the eyes which looked so much like his own, not saying a single word. His glare hardened as he opened his mouth, but was interrupted by an unexpected voice.  
"Please, stop this!"  
"Peter?!" both older Nations ceased their glowering to stare in surprised at the micronation who was now standing in the middle of them, holding an arm out to each side, head flicking from his sister to his brother, making sure they didn't start fighting again.  
"Please, stop this fighting!" Peter began. "It's Christmastime! You should be appreciating what you have, in place of those who have nothing. Family is one of the most important things during Christmas – even more than presents, or food, or anything! Honestly, there are people in the world who have nothing, not even a family, who would _kill_ for even the smallest bit of love and care! And here you two are, fighting over something so trivial."  
Peter looked from one Nation to the next, a hard look on his face. Arthur's eyes were wide, and Emily's seemed to hold an emotion which remained slightly masked by other emotions that were running through her. Emily was the first to act upon Peter's speech.  
"Peter's right. Christmas is a time for love and peace, not hatred and fighting." Emily's regretful emerald eyes met her English brother's as she told him, "I'm sorry for flaring up at you, Arthur. I know you were just looking out for me, but I was a bit annoyed at being protected so much despite being older than you. Sorry, bro."  
Arthur nodded. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have been so rash, I should have trusted you. I know you're strong enough to fight for yourself, but I still worry about the people I'm close to, or used to be close to. I'm sorry, Emily."  
Peter smiled up at his reconciling siblings, having done his job perfectly.

**End Day Seventeen**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES: **I'm sorry…  
This is a kinda angsty-sad chapter I suppose :S  
I had a happier chapter planned, but I've had a kinda bad day today, and I couldn't think of anything to write for the planned chapter. So this came out :S  
I'm sorry that it's not very good. Tomorrow's will be happy again, I promise!  
Have you guys started to dislike the chapters now? I'm getting less response than before…:S  
Bye…

**Disclaimer: **Hetalia and Christmas aren't mine

~Random ( '_' )


	18. Day Eighteen

**Tuesday, December 18th 2012**

It was a rather unusual day in the house of the United Kingdom, especially after the visitor arrived. You see, at around noon there had been a knock at the door, followed by a call of "Let the awesome me in! Me und West have presents!"

England had sighed, annoyed at the sounds of an obnoxious git coming uninvited to his – well, his family's home. Setting his cooling mug of half-finished tea on the coffee table, he arose from his seat on the sofa to greet the visitors. His pale hand gripped the shiny gold doorknob and pulled open the mahogany door, revealing Prussia and Germany, standing in front of their door as the younger of the two held a large carrier bag in one hand.

"Prussia, Germany, what a surprise to see you here." England greeted the pair. "You can come in, I suppose."

Prussia grinned in response. "Of course we can come in, I'm too awesome to stay out! Right West?"

Germany merely ignored his older brother and took England's invitation to enter the house.

* * *

At the top of the stairs, Sealand's head poked out ever so slightly, checking to see who was at the door – last time he had just ran up to the door and introduced himself cheerily, but obviously the Nation at the door hadn't been very happy when he came to visit…

Anyhow, he hadn't needed to use his caution this time, for the Nations he saw at the door were none other than Germany and Prussia. Sealand had been to a few of the World Meetings (there was a small table to the side which was reserved for micronations, so he usually sat there with the other micronations), and had heard Germany's yelling firsthand, which made him slightly wary of the stoic German. However, he knew that Prussia was not nearly as strict as his younger brother was, often making silly jokes and pulling pranks on the 'real' Nations at the big table.

Sealand grinned, jumping down the stairs to greet the new arrivals, who had just entered the house.

"Hello Prussia! Hello Germany!"

Prussia looked down and grinned at the young blonde. "Sealand! How's it goin', short-stack?"

"I'm not that short." Sealand pouted in response.

Prussia let out a loud laugh as his brother greeted the micronation. "Hallo, Sealand." Germany greeted in a semi-formal fashion.

"What are you guys doing here?" Peter asked curiously.

Prussia's grin grew wider. "We come bearing gifts and awesomeness!"

Peter looked fascinated at the thought of what could be brought by the Germans who visited. England led them through to the living room and let them choose a seat, asking what they would like to drink before exiting the room. Prussia smirked and turned to Peter.

"So, Sealand. What you doing for Weinachten this year?"

"Vhy-nack-ten?" Peter repeated, confused. "What's that?"

"Weinachten – Christmas!" Gilbert explained.

"Oh. Erm, just the usual I suppose. What about you, Prussia?"

"Oh you know, just visiting the Weinachtsmarkt und eating wurst, the usual."

"Christmas what? And worst? The worst what?"

Ludwig answered Peter's confusion. "Visiting Christmas markets und eating sausage."

"Und don't forget the Glühwein!" Prussia reminded his brother.

Peter dead-panned. "Glue wine? You drink glue?"

Prussia looked slightly offended at this remark, while Germany remained silent.

"Glühwein! Mulled wine?! It's awesome, how could you not know it?"

"I'm not really familiar with German Christmases, so…" Peter reminded the older Nation.

"Mein gott, you _have _to come to our place for Christmas! It's awesome! But not as awesome as me, of course." Prussia nodded to himself. "Come on, let's go!"

"Bruder, stop!"

But Prussia merely laughed and ignored his younger brother as he dragged Peter out of the house and away. Germany face-palmed, and England entered the room a tad too late.

"Where on earth are Prussia and Peter?"

"In my house, I think." Germany answered, exasperated at his brother's stupidity. "That dummkopf whisked him off to the Weihnachtsmarkt."

England's face was particularly murderous at this.

And that's how Sealand came to spend a day being dragged around Germany by a Prussian idiot.

**End Day Eighteen**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES: **Writing this in English, what fun~

I received a comment regarding my formatting, so I have attempted to make it slightly easier to read. Thanks for that Anon! :D

I'm feeling better today :3

Don't have much time today, I have to go to Music~

Thanks again for the positive feedback! :D

Bye~~~

**Disclaimer: **lolnope

~Random ~( ˚ ˛ ˚ )


	19. Day Nineteen

**Wednesday, December 19th 2012**

Peter was exhausted. He had just got back from Germany, after being dragged around the Christmas markets until who knows what time at night, then being forced to sleep on Germany's sofa for the night. He had barely got any sleep what with the springs jutting into his spine, and he was still jetlagged from Nation-hopping to mainland Europe and back in such a short space of time.

Therefore, the Micronation merely gave a half-hearted raise of the hand to his siblings in greeting before trudging upstairs into his bedroom and flopping face-first onto his bed, asleep within seconds. Wales, who had followed him upstairs to see what was up with Peter, smiled at the sight; it was sweet, seeing the boy look so calm and peaceful. James walked quietly over to the bed and carefully tucked Peter under the covers, tucking him in and pecking his forehead before leaving him to his dreams.

"Where's Peter?" Arthur asked James, feeling a little more relaxed after yelling his head off at the Prussian who had practically kidnapped his younger brother.

"Upstairs – he felt asleep as soon as he got there, he must have been exhausted." James explained.

"Ah, I see." Arthur mumbled, continuing to focus on his Christmassy cross-stich of a robin on a branch.

James sat down on a sofa, picking up the Sudoku book that was lying innocently on the table beside the sofa. The two of them continued as such for a spell as Iain practiced his bagpipes (using only the chanter to make it a tad less noisy), Conor played on the Xbox and Emily chatted to friends on the computer.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

A few hours later, Peter stumbled down the stairs, rubbing his eyes and attempting to cover up a yawn. He crossed through to the living room and flopped on the sofa next to James, pulling his DS out of his pocket as he did so. Without a word, he began to play his games on his console. Neither Arthur nor Conor uttered a single word, remaining in silence as the boy concentrated on his battles.

The silence was broken, however, when Iain entered the room. "Oh, Peter, you're awake. Morning, or afternoon I suppose."

Peter tiredly glanced up at his older brother after pausing his game. "Hi Iain. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," Iain replied, "I was just wondering how the Christmas markets were?"

"Oh, they were good I suppose." Peter answered, pondering the question. "I didn't get to see much since I was being dragged at a hundred miles per hour by Prussia. But the stuff I saw was good."

Iain nodded. "I suppose it's probably still the same as ever. I haven't been in a while. Still got the huge tree? The wine? The sausage?"

"I didn't get to try the wine, since I'm too young, but the sausage was nice. The decorations were beautiful as well. They had a lot of handmade stuff that was cool too, Prussia bought some for me 'cause I didn't have any euros."

Iain nodded once more. "So I take it you liked it?"

"Yes, I'd probably go back too. It's good."

Iain smiled. "Well, tea's going to be ready soon and then you'll have to get an early night." Iain answered Peter's confused expression. "We're leaving early tomorrow – the party?"

Peter nodded in understanding before going back to his game.

The rest of the day was peaceful.

**End Day Nineteen**

**AUTHOR NOTES: **This chapter wasn't the best, but oh well.

Tomorrow's SHALL be better!

Especially since I know what I'm writing then…

This chapter wasn't planned :S

Thank you once more for the comments etc.!

See you tomorrow! :D

**Disclaimer: **I'm flattered that you think I own something that amazing, but you'd be wrong there, sir. Soz :L

~Random (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ


	20. Day Twenty

**Thursday, December 20th 2012**

The chilly wind ambushed the Nations' cheeks as they opened the door and embraced the cold. England came first, trying not to shiver in his beige trench coat as he set his standard suitcase down on the snow beside him. Next was Scotland, who simply dropped his suitcase by his younger brother's and sat atop it, lighting a cigarette (this resulted in a further conversation about how Scotland should _really _stop smoking but he was far too addicted to tobacco to stop, plus it didn't harm his body anyways since he was a Nation).

Wales and Sealand were third to leave the house, Sealand wrapped in a thick winter coat, complete with hat, scarf and gloves, and Wales carrying the two suitcases. He placed the suitcases where the others had placed theirs and stood by his companions and they engaged in aimless chatting until the last Nations left the house five minutes later. Once everyone was present, the front door was locked and the British Isles proceeded to pick up their suitcases and Nation-hop away, with Sealand being helped by Wales. Like a snowflake hitting warmth, they had disappeared.

* * *

"Hey Mattie, pass the tinsel, will ya?"

"Okay, here you go."

"Thanks bro."

America pinned the tinsel to the walls, making sure it was fixed securely before climbing back down the ladder. "Not bad, if I do say so myself."

Canada nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it doesn't look half bad for your decorating skills."

"Thanks bro!" America grinned, the insult whipping over his head and into infinity. "This party's gonna be _awesome_!"

Canada sighed inwardly as he picked up a small clipboard containing a checklist of what needed to be done. Ticking off the room in which they stood on the 'decorations' column, he glanced down to the next task. "Next-"

His sentence was cut off by a sharp rap at the door. America started to head to the door. "I'll get it, it's probably the mailman with some presents or some shit."

"But, Al-" Canada was unable to tell his brother of how it was a bit late for the mailman to be delivering parcels, mainly because the American had already opened the door to the cold.

"Oh, it's Iggy and co.! I forgot you were coming over early!"

"And hello to you to, America." England greeted.

The remaining British siblings all greeted America and Canada before finally being invited into the house, relieved to be out of the cold.

"Aw, it's great that you guys are here! Now we can get ready in half the time!" the louder man laughed, probably thinking of getting out of working.

This idea however, was shot down by the larger of the Nations. "Alfred, you remember why they came early in the first place, right?"

"Yup!"

"And the reason was…?"

"Er…"

"So you can't remember after all?" Canada sighed. "They came early because it's quite a long trip here, so they must be pretty jetlagged. They should rest first."

"Oh…"

Canada brought a palm to his forehead at his forgetful brother before offering to show the guests to their rooms.

"No worries, I'm no tired at all!" Scotland laughed. "I can deal with a bit of hard work."

North, Wales and England all agreed, so Canada was left to show the remaining Nations to their rooms while America and the others got started on the next task.

* * *

Sealand and Eire spent the rest of their day relaxing and taking the occasional nap, exhausted from their long trip. Later in the day, some of the Eastern-European Nations arrived, as well as some Asian Nations, the Oceanic Nations and a few of the African Nations. Any others would either be arriving the next day or weren't invited at all (although America _did_ say he would invite everyone…except for Russia of course, but he'd still show up anyway).

England, Wales, North and Scotland all helped the two Northern American Nations, along with some of the newcomers, to decorate the remainder of the house and to buy supplies that were not already in hand. Some of the helpers had to drop out after a while, too tired to keep working. All in all, they were still able to finish the job by the end of the evening.

The next evening promised to be an eventful night.

**End Day Twenty**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES: **So yeah, I'm back with the planned stuff!

Tomorrow's chapter will be partay time~!

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and sorry about last chapter "OTL

Thanks again~!

Byeeee~

**Disclaimer: **The Nations of the world are all brought to you by…_Hetalia! _Which is not mine btw

~Random ヽ(๏∀๏ )ﾉ


	21. Day Twenty-One

**Friday, December 21st 2012**

It was all set up; the foods and beverages were lined along the buffet table in the dining room, the sound system was prepared to blast out songs of any variety from Spotify in the dance hall (America break-danced in his free time), mistletoe had been hung in random places throughout the house (Canada had tried to convince his brother not to use them, alas this was to no avail), and the lighting was set up for an epic rave party in the lounge. The decorators and organisers were fairly happy with their skills.

The guests that hadn't arrived the night before had begun to knock at the door, so as soon as the first newcomer was through the door, the party had commenced.

* * *

The music pumped from the speakers as the Nations twisted and turned their way around the dance floor, dancing eccentrically to the beat of the bass. Some of the Nations were already at the food and drink, stuffing their faces with food and draining the punch bowl as a substitute for the alcohol which had been locked away from anyone who wanted to get drunk. France was already attempting to corner Ukraine near a sprig of mistletoe (the busty woman was saved by her younger sister, who was now after America, claws out since her knife had been confiscated on her way in).

The micronations and younger Nations were upstairs in the smaller dance hall (yes, there was two dance halls) having a miniature version of the party downstairs, minus the mistletoe and wine.

Meanwhile, the older Nations were jumping along to 'Ravers in the UK', a personal favourite of a certain part of Britain. America had abandoned the door in favour of the floor, and Canada was a tad busy attempting to find Kumajiro, who had wandered off again. This allowed Russia to sneak his way through the door – okay, he really just walked in and began to enjoy the festivities, as well as helping keep a certain frog away from his older sister while hiding from the younger sister. In the midst of the raving, fighting and confusion, Prussia slipped through a door that led downstairs towards a door which was locked. Smirking, the Prussian pulled out a skeleton key (the mafia had a _lot _of useful tools) and began to unlock the door.

* * *

Canada gave up with the search for his polar bear – it had simply gone missing. He was sure it would come up somewhere…

He decided to make his way upstairs to check on the younger Nations. Making his way up the staircase, he opened the door that led to the small dance hall to find…

* * *

Prussia laughed as he saw nobody near the punch bowl. Making sure he didn't look too suspicious, he pretended to fill a cup with punch while he actually poured a bottle of Vodka into the punch, making it look exactly the same but with a heavier consolidation price. He smirked and replaced the bottle inside his jacket, filling a cup with the spiked punch and sipping it. All was going to plan…

* * *

It was chaos. Kugelmugel was doodling all over the walls, Seborga was flirting with a rather flustered Liechtenstein, Wy was sitting at the side with a phone in her hand as she attempted to ignore Hutt River, Molossia was acting hardcore as he checked his hair in a handheld mirror, and Sealand was in the middle of the floor dancing like a lunatic. Other smaller Nations were either cautiously dancing at the edges or sitting at the side lines, chatting amongst themselves. Canada's eyes widened – who would have thought a kid's party could be so…_strange?_

Sealand noticed Canada and stopped dancing in favour of running over to the second-largest Nation. "Canada, hi! What's up?"

"Not much, just checking to see what was going on up here…"

"Oh, okay! We've run out of punch, by the way – Latvia just went downstairs to get some from the bowl…"

"Ah, I see. Okay, well, enjoy your night guys!"

"We will!"

With that, Canada escaped the room, exhaling heavily as he did so.

* * *

The party downstairs was in full swing, in fact, one could say it was a lot crazier than the party upstairs.

Gilbert had begun blasting German rave songs at full volume from the speakers, Francis had disappeared, and the worst part – Arthur had drunk his fair share of the spiked punch.

Or, in other words, he was completely hammered drunk.

The Brit was dancing like a fool, cheeks red and a stick looking suspiciously like a wand in his right hand. Many of his former colonies and companions had tried relentlessly to get him to calm down, to no avail.

"Hey, Arthur, maybe you should sit down-"

"I'm fine! I wanna daaaance!" the Englishman slurred, laughing at the Australian who was attempting to calm him down. Australia shook his head and tried to lead England off to the side.

"Come on, let's go-"

"No!" England protested, holding up his wand. "I'm gonna dance!"

No matter how much the people around him tried to stop him, their efforts were fruitless – England brought his wand down and a bright light engulfed him, causing those around him to take a step back and shield their eyes from the sudden brightness. When the light had disappeared, they looked up to see England was now wearing a short toga, no shoes and – good lord his legs were fantastic!

But the most striking feature was the pair of gleaming white angel wings that had spawned from his shoulder blades. Everyone stared at him in wonder as he took off into the air, flying around a few times before sitting on top of the Christmas tree, holding the star that had previously been in that position.

"What are you looking at? Go dance!"

Everyone stopped staring immediately as the music restarted and the dancing continued.

* * *

A little later into the night, almost every Nation was drunk, and that isn't even just the older Nations.

You see, Latvia didn't know that the punch was spiked, as he was so used to intoxication that he could hold his liquor better than most others. This resulted in the micronations getting a bit tipsy, and Latvia drinking most of the punch because of the alcoholic content.

In the end, the drunken Nations finally collapsed and passed out. Those who were sober went around those who had collapsed, helping them into the recovery position so didn't choke in their drunken state. After making sure that they were all going to be okay for the night, the sober Nations took rooms and fell asleep, dreading the next day.

For sure, many Nations were going to wake up with VERY bad hangovers.

**End Day Twenty-One**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES: **Hey guys! Happy apocalypse day!

It failed XD

I wish I could have written this chapter better, but I didn't want to start adding pairings (ship wars aren't the most enjoyable experience) and I haven't been to a party like this before, so I just had to stick with my imagination.

I tried to add gatecrashing Russians (he was never even caught…), commonwealth Nations (only Australia in the end…), and I spiked the punch and made Iggy drunk! I can't write drunk, mainly because I've never been drunk :S

I suppose it's pretty hard to fit everything into a word limit that you've already exceeded...whoops! ^-^"

On another completely unrelated note, I just started watching Doctor Who~ I love it :D

Thank you once more for the positive reactions etc.! I hope you all continue to enjoy it, and feel free to give me suggestions~!

_**Edit: I have 69 reviews as of now XD**_

Byeeeeeeeeee~

**Disclaimer: **MAYDAY MAYDAY I don't own Hetalia IN THE UK! (guess what I'm listening to as I write this…)

~Random ┗ (`ー') ┓ ┏ (`ー') ┛


	22. Day Twenty-Two

**WARNING: Romano likes swearing :D  
**

* * *

**Saturday, December 22nd 2012**

"Ugh…" Arthur moaned, rolling onto his stomach so his face was pressed against the pillow. He groaned as a beat pounded inside his head, the reverberation of distinguished pain roaming free around his skull. He knew he must have had a hangover, due to getting drunk the night before – he was more worried about what may or may not have happened the night before.

Head exploding with pain, he rolled back onto his back at sat up slowly, grimacing at the brightness that shone through the gaps in the curtains. The blanket that covered him fell to his waist, revealing the toga that he had worn the night before. He glanced down at his apparel and grimaced once more. '_Ah,'_ he thought, '_that explains the back pain.'_

Rolling his shoulders a few times to loosen them up, he stretched out his tired wings to check for any damage (there was none). He then slipped out from the covers and his feet met the carpeted ground beside the bed. _'So someone moved me last night…'_

This was when he noticed the glass of water and painkillers that stood ready on the bedside table for when he woke up. _'Someone's been considerate…'_

He took the pills and downed the water, hoping that the pounding would soon subside. Afterwards, he slowly made his way to the chest of drawers and pulled out some clothes that looked like they would fit him. He then used his wand to reverse the spell that had been cast at the party, causing his wings to disappear (though the toga stayed, soon to be replaced with the clothes in his arms). Arthur sighed, massaging his head; today was going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

Meanwhile, the Nations who weren't hung over were, naturally, aiding the hung over Nations and trying not to make as much noise as possible. There weren't many who had stayed sober at the party, so it was a tough job for the few of them that there were. Canada was one of those Nations, seeing as he was pretty good at holding his liquor plus he hadn't drank a drop of alcohol last night, having seen that the punch was spiked by its effects before he could think about drinking any. The northern Nation was currently in the kitchen making large stacks of pancakes for breakfast. He sighed as he slid a pancake onto the awaiting plate before filling the pan with more mixture; he couldn't believe how wrongly things had gone – almost everyone was drunk, even some of the younger ones were intoxicated! It had been a disaster…

"Hey, Mattie!"

Canada turned around to see his brother enter the kitchen. "Hello Alfred." He replied, turning back to his pancakes.

"Pancakes, huh? Awesome dude, I love your pancakes!" Alfred's eyes lit up as he took a plate of pancakes and slid into a chair at the table, which already held various condiments on its surface.

"Keep your voice down, will you?" Another voice groaned as it entered the kitchen. Arthur sat down at the table in the opposite chair to Alfred's. "Good morning Matthew, Alfred."

"Morning Arthur." Canada greeted.

"'Sup Iggster?" Alfred grinned at his elder.

"Don't call me that, you git!"

"Oh don't start fighting again, it's too early in the morning…" A younger voice grumbled as it joined the elder Nations.

"Oh, hello Peter. Nice to see you're as bright as ever this morning." Arthur stated sarcastically.

"Oh shut up, my head is killing me."

"That would be a hangover." America brightly informed the micronation. "Though you seem a bit too young for alcohol…"

"Yes, where did you get this alcohol from?" Arthur sternly questioned.

Peter shrugged. "I dunno. I remember Latvia coming back upstairs with the punch-"

"Oh Lord," Canada interjected, "he picked up some of the spiked punch!"

"So that's where it went!" America commented. "I do remember Gil offering to get some more punch when the other bowl went missing…"

"So…Gilbert spiked the punch then?" Peter asked, confused.

"That git!" Arthur exclaimed. "What an arse, I thought the alcohol was locked away…"

"It was!" a new voice entered the conversation. "He stole my skeleton key from my bag when I wasn't looking, that bastardo." Romano glared, obviously not happy that morning.

"Oh, good morning Lovino." Matthew greeted, and the others followed his example.

"Good morning my ass, where's the painkillers?"

Matthew pointed to the cupboard in which they were stored, and Lovino went to get them. "So it was Gil who spiked the punch…" the Canadian commented.

"Obviously thought it would be a good old laugh." England added.

"Well it wasn't." Romano complained. "That potato eating bastard gave me this crappy headache and ruined a good party."

"It wasn't really ruined…" America replied. "I liked the tunes, and the angel on the Christmas tree was a nice addition too-"

"You might want to shut up unless you want a jar of maple syrup stuck up your arse." England threatened, holding the syrup as if it were a lethal weapon.

"Oh, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you Iggs-"

"Oh and I'm sure you know what I'd prefer, seeing how you probably get hundreds up yours-"

"I don't even support gay marriage, so how does that work-"

"Alright ladies!" a thick Scottish accent cut in. "Keep your hairnets on, and stop bloody arguing, it's killing my head."

Arthur glared at his older brother and the younger Nation who sat across from him, who was glaring just as readily back.

Canada sighed.

It was going to be a _really _long day today.

**End Day Twenty-Two**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES: **Look at how close to Christmas it is! I'm quivering with joy!

Not literally, but still.

I hit my word limit, so not as much detail as I would have liked.

And too much swearing.

Thanks for that Romano *glares*

I don't know I'm tired.

Night guys~

Thanks again for the positive reactions and stuff btw ^-^

**Disclaimer: **I am as sure as Spain's ass is sexy, that I do not, have not ever, and will not ever own Hetalia, no matter how much I would like to.

~Random (o*･ω･)ﾉ


	23. Day Twenty-Three

**Sunday, December 23rd 2012**

The United Kingdom Nations were tired. Halfway through the previous day, they had Nation-hopped their way home, ending up in most of them being both hung over _and_ jetlagged. Therefore, they had spent the rest of the day sleeping peacefully.

On the 23rd, however, the British Isles were just as hyperactive as ever, in some cases. And since it was only two days until the big day, there was a little last-minute shopping in order.

"Alright, I'm going food shopping." England announced as he walked into the living room where his siblings were congregated. "I need someone to join me so I can carry everything and to make sure that I have everything. Who wants to come?"

"I'll go." Scotland volunteered before his siblings could even think about opening their mouths. "I just want to go, okay?"

"Can I come?" Sealand asked his youngest older brother, staring into those emerald eyes with his wide sea-blue ones.

"But it'll be terribly boring." Arthur answered, large brows furrowed. "I don't see why you'd want to come with us to shop for _food_ of all things."

"Please?" Peter insisted. "I really want to!"

Arthur eventually gave in, not being able to say no to those pleading eyes which reminded him so much of-

No, he wouldn't think about that.

"Alright, let's go."

* * *

The black car reversed carefully into the parking space before its engine was turned off and its occupants evacuated. The three males then began to walk towards the department store, grabbing a shopping trolley on their way in.

"Alright, so let's go to the vegetables first." Arthur said, leading the way for his siblings. Iain grinned at Peter, who hopped into the trolley after making sure the other blonde wasn't looking. Iain began to push him normally through the store, breaking into a run each time they passed through an empty aisle. Arthur, who was already immersed in the vegetable stocks, hadn't noticed the disappearance of either his brothers or the trolley until he turned around with a bag of carrots in hand, waiting to put the vegetables into the invisible trolley. _'Where on earth are those bloody gits…'_

He stormed down the aisle, carrots still in hand, and began to search for his brothers, who were currently zooming through the clothing aisle. When he found them, he fumed, furious that the two of them were being so immature in a shop. "We'll get thrown out if you're not careful!"

The two stopped riding in the trolley after that (mostly because the trolley was full of food), and began to help out with the food shopping. Arthur told Iain what to get, and he and Peter would go to collect that item while Arthur found at least three more items. It took them around an hour to collect all of the items necessary for their dinner on Christmas night.

In the queue to buy their items, the older two began to engage in conversation about the previous night while Peter listened in, occasionally cutting in with a comment or two of his own.

"I can't believe that bloody twat spiked the punch…honestly, did he not think about what he was doing before he did it?"

Iain laughed at his younger brother's remark. "Gilbert never thinks things through before he does them; if it's fun, he'll do it, no matter what. Obviously he didn't think the kids would get their hands on it."

"But what if he _did_ think that we would get some?" Peter asked. "He could have known."

"Well, I suppose you never know." Arthur commented, turning to the cashier to pay for their items.

When they exited the store, Peter had one opinion about his experience – even _shopping_ could be fun sometimes.

**End Day Twenty-Three**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES: **I'm tiiiiiiiiiired =_=

I just had Christmas dinner with my family at my Nana's house, so it was pretty tiring, but fun!

Sorry if the chappie isn't the best, I'm tired!

Thank you again for the feedback on the previous chapters! Feel free to ask questions or request things!

**Disclaimer: **In soviet Russia, Hetalia owns YOU!

~Random ψ(｀∇´)ψ


	24. Day Twenty-Four

**Monday, December 24th 2012**

After the food shopping that had taken place the previous day, Wales had taken to the kitchen, banning his siblings from entry and beginning the preparation of the Christmas dinner that would be served to the British Isles plus parts of the commonwealth the next evening – which happened to be this one. Therefore, a large portion of Christmas Eve for Wales was spent in the kitchen, while his siblings cleaned up the house to make it look presentable for the guests that evening.

Speaking of which, the dinner turned out to be a rather uneventful event. The commonwealth Nations had arrived, albeit a tad later than expected, to the house. They had then sat down for dinner, which was full of laughter and chatting, as well as the loud '_bang!' _of a cracker after being pulled by two people, revealing small toys and gift items as well as corny Christmas jokes and paper hats.

"Hey, Aussie, listen to this one: 'What do you get if you eat Christmas decorations?'"

"I dunno mate, what do you get?"

"'Tinselitus'"

The Oceanic Nation gave a snort and shook his head. "God that was a crap joke."

"I know right?" Scotland agreed, and they both laughed.

After dinner, the older Nations sat in the living room and talked about random thing while Sealand and Wy played games in the other room. It was a rather relaxed evening, and the commonwealth all took their leave to return to their hotels for the night with smiles on their faces.

* * *

Sealand stood before Wales' bedroom door, sheepishly raising his hand to quietly knock at the door before slowly pushing the door open.

"James?" he whispered. "Are you awake?"

"Hmmm…" a voice mumbled in a muffled fashion. "Peter…is that…you?"

"Yes, it's me." Peter replied.

James slowly sat up, rubbing his sleep-filled eyes with the back of his hands. "What's wrong Peter? How come you're not asleep?"

Peter muttered something under his breath that James couldn't quite hear. "What was that? I couldn't hear you."

A little louder this time, Peter answered his older brother's former question. "I had a nightmare." His voice was barely above a whisper.

Wales took in the answer before nodding and gesturing for Sealand to come over to him, enveloping the micronation in a warm hug. "Don't worry Peter…its gone now…"

Tears fell softly down Peter's cheeks, soon to be noticed by the elder of the two, who held him closer and whispered small comforts into his ear. "Don't cry, it'll be alright…it's gone now…its Christmas tomorrow, and Santa won't like it if he sees you crying…"

After a while, the tears dried up and Peter had fallen asleep in James' arms, breathing soundly as he slumbered. James smiled and shifted the boy under the covers, reckoning that he would rather not be alone if he woke up during the night. James then snuggled back down under the warm duvet and fell back into a peaceful snooze, exhausted after working hard for the majority of the day and having been woken up at a late time of night.

**End Day Twenty-Four**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES: **I'm barely getting this on in time, you know…

I was opening my Christmas presents today, since my mum is working tomorrow. I got a lot of nice gifts, including Hetalia season 4 on DVD and the first Hetalia manga!

The Hetalia manga I got is in German though, so it will be a fun one to attempt to translate! :D

I hope you guys are all having good Christmasses/whatever else you may celebrates this year! Hope you get good gifts and have a good time :)

Thank you all again for the positive feedback!

Bye~

**Disclaimer: **Nyet ^J^

~Random ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ


	25. Day Twenty-Five

**Tuesday, December 25th 2012**

"WAKE UP JAMES, IT'S CHRISTMAS!"

Wales' eyes snapped open, uncovering the face of Sealand as he yelled excitedly for the elder to wake up. James sat up, shielding his eyes against the sunlight filtering through the window. "Quiet down Peter, I'm awake."

"Great!" Peter grinned. "Let's go downstairs, we're opening our presents soon!"

James shifted Peter from his knees and climbed out of bed, yawning and stretching as he did so. He then followed the younger boy, who had already left the room, downstairs towards the dining room. He then picked up a slice of toast from the pile in the table's centre and sat at a chair, chomping on the crunchy bread.

Peter then entered the room, followed by Arthur, who had just shooed him out of the living room. "No going in there until we've all eaten breakfast."

"Yes Arthur." The micronation then took some toast and practically shoved it down his throat before staring at his siblings, waiting for them to finish their breakfast.

After they had all finally finished, the six Nations then took seats in the living room, either on a sofa or the floor. Iain, as part of tradition, began to hand out the presents to the receivers.

"Okay…Peter, for you." Iain read out, passing the gift to the young blonde, who thanked him. He then tore into the wrapping paper, ripping it from the item until no more was concealed. "It's Assassins Creed III! Thanks guys!"

And so, the present opening continued as such. Some of the highlights were England's reaction to the Irish gifts (_"A mug that reads 'I'm a twat'?! I think you should have kept it for yourself!" "You bloody git! I don't need a blasted zimmer frame!"_) and Peter's reaction to Sweden and Finland's gift (_"Woah, they made this? It's so cool! A model of my fort – plus ships and little people! Awesome!"_). All in all, it was a rather enjoyable event.

Afterwards, they all sat together watching old Christmas movies and looking at their new belongings. Peter spent a while playing Assassins Creed and setting up his new Xbox Live membership (courtesy of his micronation friends), Arthur began a new cross-stitch on the set he had received (little did he know that the result would spell out 'I'm a twat' in Gaelic), Iain played the songs from his new book of bagpipe sheet music, James was on Skype thanking New Zealand for his wonderful gift (a sheep plush), and Emily and Conor opened their gifts of beer and had a marathon of beer drinking along with the movies (making sure that their younger brother didn't get his hands on any).

For dinner, they had a simple meal of lasagne (bought from Tesco) and a dessert of Christmas pudding or chocolate cake and ice cream. Thereafter, they had a lazy evening of gift exploring and movie watching, or for some, an evening of beginning one of many books they had been given.

All over the world, both Nations and mortals celebrate the end of one year, the beginning of a new, and the birth of a legend stored in memory for centuries. No matter what the name or the cause of any celebrations that day, festive cheer lit up the globe, if only for a day.

And so, the Christmas season had come to a conclusion.

**End Day Twenty-Five**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES:** Hi!

So, you know how this is the 25 days of Christmas?

Well, here's day 25.

AKA, the last day of Christmas.

Don't worry though, there will be a little epilogue planned for the 31st, New Year's!

Other than that, don't expect an update until or after then~

Thank you all for reading this!

Merry Christmas, or whatever else you may celebrate!

I hope you all have/had a good day!

I'm sorry that this isn't the best…

By the way, those gifts do exist, including the 'I'm a twat' mug XD

Thank you all again for the feedback etc.!

That's all for now, but I'll see you on the 31st!

Hasta la Pasta!

**Disclaimer: **If you still think I own Hetalia, perhaps you should check the previous chapters' disclaimers =_=

~Random ( 6 w 6 )


	26. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

There were ten minutes remaining of 2012. The citizens of London were currently at a large New Year's celebration, enjoying the festivities and events that were going on. Famous bands and singers performed to a T, waiting for Big Ben to chime midnight and signal the beginning of a New Year. In order to engage in conversation, the people had to yell both over the noise of the crowd and the sound coming through the large speakers. Everyone reminded themselves of the year, reminiscing both the good and the bad things that had occurred over the past twelve months; the diamond jubilee, the Olympics, so many things had happened.

The crowd cheered along enthusiastically, chanting to the countdown as the clock ticked from 11:59 to midnight, triggering the chime of Big Ben and the screams of the crowd as the New Year began. People cheered, hugging and kissing, congratulating each other on getting through 2012 and entering the next year. After a few minutes of this, a song began to blare through the air, causing everyone to sing along.

"_Should auld acquaintance be forgot,_

_And never brought to mind?_

_Should auld acquaintance be forgot,_

_And auld lang syne?"_

And so, the New Year began, pushing out the old and bringing in the new.

**The End**


	27. Eplogue - The Second Attempt

**Epilogue: Attempt 2**

"Happy New Year!"

These words were repeated the world over on that day. The personifications of countries repeated them as well, wishing each other the best for the New Year.

Smiling, they watched and rejoiced with their citizens as they sang, hugged and laughed, bringing in the New Year with cheer. Scotland's personification was pretty tired the next morning, a hangover looming over his pounding head; there had been an extremely large Hogmanay celebration in his country the night before, so he had only gone to sleep at around three in the morning. After he awoke, he plodded downstairs to the kitchen, finding some aspirin and a glass of water to remedy his headache. He heard a laugh and turned around to see his younger brother, the personification of England, enter the room.

"Hangover?" England laughed. "Some things never change."

"I'm surprised you haven't got one too." Scotland commented, ignoring the jab.

"I only had a small glass of wine last night, to bring in the New Year."

"Doesn't mean you couldn't have gotten drunk on just that."

The younger Nation rolled his eyes and gazed into the distance in thought. "It doesn't even feel like a New Year."

"I suppose none of them do, really, especially if you've already seen thousands of them." Scotland shrugged.

"Well, I suppose you're right about that."

The two continued chatting as such for a while, and the rest of the day was spent as any other would be.

**Okay so this is the real End**

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTES: **Sorry for the extreme anti-climax with the last two chapters people…

Anywhooo, Happy New Year everyone!

I hope you all have a good one!

Now, since this is the _last_ last chapter, I'd just like to say a huge thank you to everyone who has read, faved, followed and reviewed this story! You have all been awesome, so thanks~!

To those who have reviewed just about every chapter, an even bigger thank you!

Every time I saw a fave, follow or review alert, my day was brightened a touch, it really made me smile! Thanks again!

So that's enough of me, now go back to reading your amazing fanfics or whatever, and enjoy your year!

Hasta la pasta!

**Disclaimer: **Is this even necessary anymore?

~Random ( = ¬ = )7 *salutes you*


End file.
